Dating A Saint (13 page)

Unlocking the door, she opened it, her breathing still choppy from exertion. Or maybe she was breathless to see him dressed in business clothes and looking incredibly sexy.

“Hi. I thought you were the delivery man,” she said to Jim, smiling at the handsome picture he made.

Jim narrowed his eyes as his gaze took in her tight black workout pants and red tank top. At least she was wearing a bra this time, he thought darkly.

“Last time I was at your house you were expecting a stripper. How long before you finally start expecting to see me?” he asked, glaring at her smiling face.

Lauren’s smile died. She was fast learning Jim got super sarcastic when he was angry, worse than Alexa or Regina. And as usual, this time she had done nothing to deserve his irritated response to her greeting.

“Sorry, I needed a third guy to help me burn off all this energy and thought I’d proposition the delivery guy. I left the other two guys in the workout room upstairs. I might have energy to handle a fourth. Want to join us?” she asked snidely, his snarky attitude bringing out the bitch in her again.

“Are you trying to piss me off on purpose? And why in the hell are we always fighting? I came to talk to you about something important.
Shit
,” Jim said, pulling one hand from his pocket to run it through his hair.

Lauren grabbed his arm to pull him further inside before slamming the door closed behind him. It rattled on its hinges from the force she used.

“I was expecting a damn delivery. When are you going to stop thinking the worst when you see me? I led a pretty exemplary life up until you,” Lauren demanded. “If you’re teasing, it’s not funny.”

Jim sighed at her consternation. “I wasn’t teasing. I was—overreacting. Damn it. The idea of you with somebody else drives me crazy. Let me try this over,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Hi. I probably should have called first, but I don’t have your phone number. I can’t believe I forgot to ask you for it. I have something I’d like to talk to you about if you have time.”

Sighing to herself over his apology, Lauren could tell Jim was sincerely upset about something. Deciding to let the anger side away this time, she walked over to Jim and stood on her toes to touch her mouth to his.

“Hi back. I was in the middle of working out, but I’m glad you stopped by. Of course I can make time to talk to you. Remind me and I’ll make sure you have my phone number before you leave.”

He all but tasted her forgiveness. It was so welcome Jim stopped her when she started to back away.

“Wait,” he ordered. He put both arms around Lauren and lifted her mouth to his again, using his hands to lift her hips to his. Everything lined up between them in incredible ways. He slid his hands to cup her backside as he held her body pressed firmly against him.

“I’m sorry I insulted you again. I need more of you. Don’t kick my ass, okay?” Jim let himself dive into kissing her mouth, his tongue seeking and finding hers, indulging his need to connect to her thoroughly before pulling away.

“I’ve missed you terribly,” he said to Lauren, loosening his hold at last. “Tell me it’s okay for me to keep coming by your house to see you.”

The question surprised Lauren. Why would it not be okay?

“Come by anytime,” she said, standing on her toes and winding herself around Jim as much as she could while he hugged her hard. She kissed his temple, then moved her lips down his cheek already roughened with a partial day’s growth of beard, before letting herself drop back down from her toes to flat feet.

“I’ve missed you too,” Lauren said softly, her voice already made husky with lust. To keep herself from begging him to go upstairs with her, she stepped away from the warmth of his arms. “Let’s go into the kitchen. I need some water. What did you want to talk with me about?”

Jim put his hands back into his pockets again as he followed Lauren into the kitchen. He watched her walk to the refrigerator and pull out a bottle of water. He shook his head when she offered him one.

“I guess it could have waited until later. It’s just—hell. You disturb me on so many levels I have trouble thinking clearly around you. I came by to tell you about my wife,” Jim said flatly.

Lauren lowered the bottle, the water she’d drunk sliding slowly down a suddenly tight throat. “Oh—uh, okay,” she said. “I think I’d like to go put on some drier clothes first. Why don’t you wait in the living room while I change out of these?”

Actually, she needed a little time to adjust to hearing Jim say
my wife
like there really was one. Lauren suddenly feared she had been in denial about the situation, but she had no choice but to hear what Jim had to say.

Jim nodded at her request. “We can even wait until later if you want,” he offered. “I can come back this evening. I don’t know why I felt I had to rush over here this afternoon.”

“You probably rushed over here because we’ve already waited long enough,” Lauren said carefully, watching Jim reluctantly nod in agreement. “Let me put on some less sweaty clothes. I promise to be back in two minutes.”

Jim went into the living room to wait. He wished he could have followed Lauren upstairs, watched her change clothes. If he did though, he doubted they’d be talking much. He sat in a chair by the window to wait, wondering where to begin his story.

Lauren came back a few minutes later dressed in jeans and wearing a tee shirt hugging every curve. Jim blinked as she walked to the couch. He wanted to tell her how great she looked, but all he could think about was the limitations of the life he’d chosen for himself, including the fact he never looked so happy or at ease.

“I don’t own a single pair of jeans,” Jim said to her, sounding as pathetic as he felt.

Lauren laughed. “Jared hated me in jeans, but I actually bought my first pair to spite my mother who thinks they make me look fat. I own several pair now that clothing lines have added enough stretch to be comfortable around my curves. Denim isn’t just for skinny girls anymore.”

“Lydia is dead wrong about your body. Skinny has always been overrated. Curves look nicer and are a hell of lot more fun,” Jim said easily with a smile. “Maybe you can help me buy a pair of jeans sometime. I’m afraid to ask Kaiser for help again. You should see the weight room in my house.”

“You lift?” Lauren asked. “I didn’t know that.”

“I started—well, I guess it was after I saw Kaiser in a sweaty tee shirt. The man has a six-pack an eighteen year old would envy. I have to admit I feel a lot better for what I’ve been doing. And the muscles came in handy when I carried you to bed the other night,” Jim said.

“I’m sorry I missed it,” Lauren said softly. “Tall curvy girls don’t get carried often.”

“Maybe we can change that,” Jim said softly in return.

“Maybe,” Lauren replied cautiously, though she knew her gaze was screaming yes loudly enough to be heard on the other side of town.

Jim smiled and looked away from Lauren. The last thing in the world he wanted to talk to her about was another woman, but he’d already waited too long to tell her the truth.

“I haven’t told many people what I’m going to tell you,” Jim said. “I probably should have told you weeks ago, but I—well, it’s just my habit to hide the truth to protect my wife and her elderly parents.”

“Jim, whatever you need to tell me—just tell me,” Lauren said. “Knowing is better than thinking you want to keep the truth from me. I don’t intend to tell your secrets to anyone.”

“I’m sorry. I know that, of course,” Jim said, running a nervous hand through his hair. “The short story is my wife Cassandra was institutionalized seven years ago when she became delusional after a prolonged illness. There was some fairly extensive brain damage. She’s made a partial recovery and is in a facility now in Maryland where she lives full time.”

Lauren blinked several times and swallowed. “You—you provide for her continued care?”

“Yes,” Jim said firmly. “I stay married to her because it allows me the legal right to provide what she needs.”

Jim swallowed hard before continuing, and forced himself to meet Lauren’s eyes when he did. “I also take care of the man my wife considers her real husband.”

Lauren leaned back on the couch. She couldn’t have heard right. “Wait. Your wife—she’s—she’s with someone else?” Lauren shook her head in disbelief.

“Sam and Cassandra met when they were in a facility in Baltimore. Sam has severe OCD and problems handling anxiety. He was in and out of treatment when he met Cassandra—Sandy as he calls her. She was in a very dark place then, one I could never really visit with her. Despite his own problems, Sam managed to pull Cassandra back to the light. It didn’t really surprise me when she fell in love with him,” Jim explained. “Sam is a good man. Still is. Always will be probably.”

“But, Jim,” Lauren said, struggling to make sense of how he could tolerate such an unfair situation. “What about you? Your wife was essentially cheating on you in front of you while you continued to care for her. Didn’t she know on some level what she was doing?”

“No—no, I don’t believe Cassandra knew she was hurting me at all. Her understanding of most relationships is like a child’s simple view of them. And yes, of course I loved her, and it hurt,” Jim said quickly, seeing the questions in Lauren’s gaze, but unsure how to explain the complexities of emotion he had grown to accept. “Sure there have been times over the years that I’ve looked at what Cassandra is doing as cheating. But if you saw her and Sam together, you’d see it’s not like that at all. Sam fits her better than I ever did. More importantly, Sam understands her illness and knows how to help. It wouldn’t have been right for me to keep them apart when they obviously belong together.”

Jim stood to walk to the window and look out at the world beyond Lauren’s living room. He was very glad to be telling her the truth at last, glad she was willing to listen to his explanation.

“After I accepted my role in Cassandra’s life had changed, I decided it was still my job to make enough money to take care of her, which turned into taking care of
them
. When you truly love someone, you do what you have to do. She was—is still legally my wife. Everything I have done is because I truly loved her when I married her. I try to keep the promises I make.”

Lauren thought about how it must have been for Jim all these years, going home alone, leaving his wife with another man. His situation with Cassandra was every bit as bad or worse as hers had been watching Jared leave her bed to be with other lovers. The betrayal would have cut just as deeply, she guessed, regardless of the reason.

“I imagine you’ve always done what you felt was the right thing to do,” Lauren said reasonably. “I’m also not surprised you stayed legally married to your wife. You’re a wolf, Jim. And wolves mate for life, I hear.”

“What?” Jim asked, giving her a confused look. “I’m a what?”

“Nothing. Forget I said something so silly—it’s not important, just something someone told me about men. My point is, not many men take their marriage vows so seriously,” Lauren said sincerely.

“I did keep my vows for a long time, but eventually I cheated on Cassandra as well,” Jim said sadly.

Lauren waved that away. “No. That wasn’t what happened in your situation. Cheating is about intention far more than the physical act of sex. What you did is not cheating in real sense. Trust me. Jared went through twenty or thirty lovers over the years of our marriage. There were even times he left me after sex and went to them. Never compare what you did out of deep desperation to someone like Jared Smith who intentionally bedded every woman he came across.”

Then Lauren thought of another question that might help her understand how Jim viewed his relationship to her. “What prompted you to start dating when you met the woman you slept with years ago?”

Jim turned his back to Lauren. It was still hard to admit how hard he had taken it when his wife totally rejected him. It was still hurtful to know his actions hadn’t been enough for Cassandra no matter what he did or how he tried to help.

“It happened just before I moved them to the new facility in Maryland. When I visited Cassandra one day, she called me her brother. She introduced me to Sam as if I had never met him before, and told me they were married. This is the delusion Cassandra still believes today. I go along with it because it makes her happy.”

“What other choice do you have now?” Lauren snorted as she posed the question. “What other choice did Cassandra give you back then? Sounds like your wife left you the best way she could before moving on to someone else.”

Lauren crossed her arms, partly to comfort herself, partly to keep from going to Jim.

“You may still be legally married to Cassandra, but it seems like in every other way you’re free, Jim. I’m obviously biased in this situation, but I still think what I’m saying is true.”

Jim laughed and shook his head. “I would consider you biased, but Regina Logan said nearly the same thing to me years ago. Unfortunately, I still have trouble seeing it that way. I support Cassandra’s delusion, but I have no delusions about my remaining connection to her.”

Because you are a wolf
, Lauren thought again,
just as Alexa said
. Your wife was yours, you howled over her, and you still haven’t let her completely go. The thought that Jim might not ever be able to let his wife go was a sobering one for Lauren.

“Okay,” Lauren said, studying his distress. It was in the way he stood, the tight mouth, and his hands fisted in his pockets again. “So how do
you
define your relationship to Cassandra now? Brother? Husband? Or something else?”

Jim brought his gaze back to Lauren. All he could tell her was the truth. “Lack of knowing is why I’ve stayed away from you for as long as I have. I’m afraid being with you the way I want will seem like cheating on Cassandra, like it did with the other woman. I don’t want to bring that emotion to you, or to feel it again myself.”

Lauren closed her eyes against the hurt Jim’s statement caused her, wondering how he could not see the bigger picture? As far as Lauren was concerned, Jim belonged to her, just like he’d told her mother. As far as she was concerned, her feelings for him were above reproach. Whatever tiny bit of guilt she had felt for the invisible, non-existent wife Jim had claimed was completely negated for her by the true story. For all intents and purposes, Jim was like a widower, or at the very least as free as someone who was divorced.