Animal Instincts [The Andersons 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) (22 page)

“I was grieving.”

“What, and you think I wasn’t? Dammit, Stacey! You put me through hell. And now you want me to return to it? To you? Well, I won’t. I have a new life and you form no part of it.” He turned his back on Stacey, placed one of the grocery bags on the SUV’s roof, and went to unlock the door, but she stuck out a hand. Her French manicured nails bit into his forearm.

“Are you seeing somebody else?”

“If I am, it’s got nothing to do with you.”

“It has if we’re to make another go of our marriage, Rex.”

Incredulous, he stared at her. “Haven’t you heard a word I’ve said? I don’t want anything to do with you. And I’ve got nothing more I want to say. Well, apart from get lost!” Shaking his arm free, Rex opened the door, placed the bags on the passenger seat, and went to get behind the wheel, but Stacey yanked on the sleeve of his T-shirt hard enough for him to stumble and knock his shoulder against the top of the door ledge.

“Rex, we need to talk.”

“Like fuck we do!” He glared at her and resisted the urge to rub his shoulder like some little girl. “You make me sick! Now fuck off and leave me alone!”

“Is there a problem here?” a familiar man’s voice asked behind Rex.

Ah, great. Just great. After the hailstorm comes the heat wave.
Rex turned and mustered a friendly, yet “mind-your-own-business” smile at the uniformed officer. “Matt. Yeah, everything’s fine. Just fine.”

Matt Anderson turned to Stacey, probably for confirmation. “Ma’am?”

“My husband and I were just talking.”

“Ex-husband!” Rex fired in sharply. He had to give Matt credit. Faced with a statuesque beauty and well-known celebrity such as Stacey and the only reaction to that comment was the slight hitch of his right brow. “We’ve been divorced for near enough eight months now. And no, actually, everything’s not fine,” he added, changing his mind. “She’s hassling me.”

“Hassling you?” Matt repeated with another hitch to his brow.

“Yes, hassling me.” Rex’s eyes narrowed as something occurred to him. “Hang on a minute. How did you know where to find me?” he asked Stacey. “You couldn’t have gotten anything out of Andy because he wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire. And my former employers in Miami are not obliged to tell you anything, either. Past and present personnel records are confidential.”

“I hired a private detective,” Stacey said with as much audacity as Rex knew he was smug.

“You did what!” Disbelief flared into anger, but while Rex never made a move toward Stacey, Matt still placed a restraining hand on his arm.

“Don’t even think about it. Or you’ll be seeing the inside of a cell.”

Taken aback, Rex frowned at Matt. “What kind of a man do you think I am? I would never strike a woman.”

“Glad to hear it. Now I suggest you go home.”

“And what about her?”

“Excuse me, Rex, but I do have a name,” Stacey said. “I’m your wife.”

“Ex-wife!” Rex snarled, really pissed now. “Or have you forgotten putting pen to paper and ending your five-year marriage to a conniving, damaged bastard and a freak of a husband?” He had to give Stacey credit now. She actually looked contrite. But he’d had enough. “Come within three thousand miles of me again, Stacey, and I’ll get a restraining order.”

Then with an acknowledging nod to Matt, Rex jumped into the driver’s seat, turned the key, slammed it into gear, and roared away without so much as a backward glance.

He should have.

* * * *

“All right, what’s happened?”

Taking a five-minute break, which had already stretched into thirty, from helping Samantha in their parents’ garden, her hip against the kitchen counter, Ramona stared at her father over the rim of her coffee mug as he tugged on his boots, trying her hardest not to appear as though she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

This sounded like it would turn into a father-daughter interrogation, and there hadn’t been one of those since the time when she’d accidentally set fire to the rug in the living room and had blamed it on Matt. Sure, she’d been guilty then, but not now. If anybody was in the wrong, it was Rex. He was the one who couldn’t differentiate between herself and his ex-wife. And that scared her. Rex had never cheated or lied to her—well, not in the traditional sense anyway—but could she still end up with a broken heart? “Nothing. Did Matt say what time his shift finishes?”

“Is this going to happen every time one of my children falls in love, they change the subject? First Ross. Now you.”

She pretended not to have heard the “falls in love” part. “I didn’t change the subject. I told you, nothing’s happened.”

“Oh, right. This argument with Rex? Was it about his ex-wife?”

The mouthful of coffee she’d just taken choked her. Why did her father have to be so perceptive? Or was she just easy to read? She carefully placed the mug on the counter, not wanting her father to see the sudden trembling of her hand. Her anger had long since dissolved, so she could only put this reaction down to her fear of another broken heart.

Of course, he saw her trembling hand because he said, “Want to talk about it? After all, a problem shared is a problem halved.”

Ramona shook her head. “I can’t, Dad. Rex told me things, private things. And yes, while we did argue, I can’t betray his confidence.”

“And neither would I want you to, but it’s obviously affected you.” Ross cupped his daughter’s shoulders with loving hands. “Ramona, if you’re worried that Rex will go back to his ex-wife, then you’re worrying over nothing.”

She flashed a self-assured smile. If there was one thing she was certain of, it was that Rex would never return to Stacey.
“The day I return to you, will be the day when hell freezes over.”
That’s what he’d said. And he’d meant it with bells on.

So why the sudden identity crisis? He’d said it was because he’d thought she was pregnant. Even if she were, she would never react or treat Rex with the abhorrent disdain that Stacey had done. She loved Rex. So why hadn’t she told him? Ramona knew why. She wanted to hear him say the words first. It was important to her that he did.

“Ramona?” Her father’s tone suggested he had repeated her name. “Do you love Rex? Then tell him,” he said when she nodded. “We men are not mind readers.”

“But what if he doesn’t feel the same?” she said, a small measure of fear creeping in.

Her father snorted. “The man’s crazy about you. The way he looks at you. Acts with you. If that’s not love, then I don’t know what is.” A knowing smile creased his aged yet still handsome features. “In some ways he reminds me of me when I first met your mother. The moment I looked into those green eyes, I was a goner. And I’m betting Rex is the same.”

Hearing the reassuring words, Ramona’s fear quickly dispelled. Her father, as usual, was right. Rex may not have told her he loved her, but through his actions, he had shown her. She still needed to hear the words though. She removed her cell phone from her jeans front pocket and called Rex’s. It went straight to voice mail. She called the house. The answering machine picked up.

“No answer?”

She shook her head and tucked the cell back into her pocket. “He’s either driving or too busy with an emergency callout. I’ll try later.” She picked up her coffee and grimaced at its coolness.

“This is some five minutes,” Samantha said, poking her head through the open kitchen window. Instantly suspicious of the startled expressions that she’d obviously interrupted something, her eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Sam,” Ross answered. He rolled up his shirt sleeves. “I hope you’ve left me something to do.”

“There’s a patch of weeds with your name on it.”

“Only a patch?”

Relieved that Samantha hadn’t pushed and her father hadn’t supplied, Ramona smiled at the banter going on between them as she followed her father out into the garden.

Ten minutes later, and the sound of a vehicle’s engine attracted Ramona’s attention. Rising and brushing the dirt from the knees of her jeans, she wandered over to the side fence. Was it Rex? No, it wasn’t, but she recognized the tall, tanned, blond-haired, and dustily clothed man who alighted from an equally dust-covered truck immediately, despite not having seen him for three years.

With a delighted shriek, she bounded inside the house and into the living room. “Well, well, well, look who
’
s here. It
’
s Danny Boy.
” Daniel Ferris, as always, looked more than a little bemused as to which twin she was, so she helped him along. “
Ramona.” She grinned. “As you can see, I
’
ve had my hair cut. You won
’
t have any difficulty in telling us apart anymore.
”

“
Right. Suits you.
”

“
Do you think?
”
she asked, lightly touching the soft spikes.
“
I wasn
’
t too sure at first, but it
’
s growing on me.
”

Daniel groaned, then wished her a happy birthday for the day before and promised to take her and Samantha to Rustlers for several drinks to make up for not bringing gifts. Samantha then joined them. Almost immediately, Ramona noticed Daniel turning another kind of flustered, apparently losing the ability to string two words together.
Also, he seemingly had trouble taking his eyes off Samantha.

She spared a glance at her sister. Wow! Rex had said he’d hoped the silver charm bracelet would make her lucky in love, but she’d bet he never thought it would come true. But Danny Ferris? The brother of Jessica, who her own brother, Ross, had been in love with all his life? Unreal. Talk about keeping it in the family.

“
You
’
ll have dinner with us, won
’
t you?
”

Ramona started. She hadn’t realized her mother was in the room until she spoke. Standing by the sideboard, she, too, was watching the exchange between Samantha and Daniel. There was a wariness to her mother’s expression, which then disappeared as quickly as it appeared, making Ramona wonder if she’d seen it at all.

She tuned back into the conversation just as her mother suggested that if Daniel so wished, he could shower after Samantha. She looked at each in turn. Daniel sported a noticeable bulge in the crotch of his dusty jeans and literally backpedaled out of the door. With beaded nipples beneath the mucky T-shirt and a flushed face, Samantha, too, appeared turned on and couldn’t get up the stairs fast enough. If her sister’s happiness hadn’t been such a serious matter, Ramona would have found it funny.

“Was it something I said?” Jess asked, shaking her head, bemused.

Yet Ramona wasn’t fooled. She knew her mother was just as perceptive as her father, maybe even more so.

“Will Rex be joining us for dinner?”

“I don’t know,” she answered truthfully.

“You two had a fight?”

“Yes,” she again answered truthfully. “But we’ll work things out.”

“I hope so. I like Rex.”

And I love him, Ramona thought as her mother disappeared into the kitchen. Her cell vibrated in her pocket. It was Rex. “Hi.”

“Hi, yourself. You called?”

“Yeah, I…” Was there a flintiness to Rex’s tone? “Where are you?”

“Home. Did you want something?”

His tone was definitely flinty. For a moment, she wondered about the reasons why before giving herself a mental kick in the ass.
Doh!
Rex was clearly as pissed at her as she had been with him. Mmm, maybe now was not the time to ask him to say a certain three little words. Still, she said, “You.” There was a very long silence. She couldn’t even hear Rex breathing, and Ramona gave herself another mental kick in the ass. “Rex?”

“I’ve bought Sundance for the practice.”

Though still flinty, his tone hinted at the familiar smugness. She felt better. Everything was going to be all right. She knew it. “That’s great.”

“Come home.”

“I will.”

“When?”

“Soon.” She disconnected and ascended the stairs. The bathroom door was open. The vaporous air, immaculate surfaces, and neatly hung damp towels told her Samantha had showered. She entered their bedroom. Standing by the mirrored wardrobe, her sister was staring into space. She ran a critical eye over the beige linen slacks and white-lace, scoop-neck top. She was not impressed.
“
You
’
re not wearing that tonight, are you?
”

Samantha jumped and turned and faced her.
“
Yeah, why?
”

“
Hair up or down?
”

“
Down.
”

“
Then it sucks.
”
Samantha sat down at the dressing table and studied herself in the mirror. Knowing exactly what her sister was thinking, Ramona tutted her disapproval. It was enough to have Samantha pinning her hair up with a pair of tortoise-shell combs.