Part-Time Wife (7 page)

"It's slow going," he said, and shrugged. "I'm working with a team of elderly citizens. We're mounting a sting operation."

She grinned. "I bet they're great to work with."

"They are," he agreed. "There's this one woman, Mrs. Hart. She lives alone. She's got to be seventy, but you'd never know it. She's been begging me to let her wear a wire." He glanced at Jill. "A microphone and tape. She keeps cruising around the seniors center and the bingo halls, hoping they'll pick her. I keep telling her she's seen too many movies."

"She sounds terrific."

"Yeah." His smile faded and he hunched over his beer. "I hope they don't get her. A couple of the accidents didn't go as planned. The timing was off, or the jerks doing this stopped too soon. A woman was killed."

"Oh, Craig." She reached across the table and touched his hand with her fingers. The light brush wasn't erotic. Nor was it meant to be. Instead, the caring gesture offered comfort and he accepted it.

"We'll get 'em. I don't usually do this kind of work, but the detectives needed some assistance and I volunteered. When the hours keep me away from the kids, I try to justify it by telling myself I'm doing the right thing."

"You are," she assured him. She pulled her hand away and laced her fingers together on the edge of the table. "Why a cop?"

"That's easy. I come from a long line of cops. Four generations on my dad's side. All my uncles – my dad was one of six. Two of my brothers.
Jordan
's the only holdout. He's a fire fighter. We tease him about it." Craig took a sip of beer. "If you ask me, anyone voluntarily going into a burning building day after day is crazy."

"Some people would say that about what you do."

"Maybe."

The corners of her mouth tilted up. "So you're one of four boys, you have five uncles and three boys of your own. There aren't many girls in your family, are there?"

"There hadn't been one born in four generations. My brother Travis had a girl, though."

"Oh, progress for the female gender."

"
Jordan
has a theory that Haynes men only have girls when they're in love. If it's true, it doesn't say much about the last four generations of husbands. Or my marriage.
Elizabeth
– that's Travis's wife – says it's more about the female being predisposed to accept male or female sperm. She pointed out that she's one of three girls, and she comes from a family that mostly has daughters. I guess when Kyle and Sandy have their baby we'll know who's right."

Jill was staring at him as if he'd grown a second head. "You look lost," he said.

"I am. All these names. How big is your family?"

"I have three brothers and Austin. He's family, but not by blood."

"Where are your folks?"

He didn't like talking about that, but it was a reasonable question. "My mom took off about fifteen years ago. My dad hadn't been much of a husband. He fooled around constantly. She took it for as long as she could, then one day she walked out. She didn't bother packing a bag or leaving a note. She just left. We never saw her again."

"If she didn't take any luggage, how do you know—" She bit on her lower lip.

"How do we know something didn't happen to her?"

She nodded.

"
Jordan
saw her leave. She told him she'd had it and wasn't coming back. He was only seventeen and didn't know what to do. He came to me. I was already out of college and living on my own, I told him to keep what he heard to himself. It was hard on all of us. Probably hardest on Kyle, because he's the youngest."

Her green eyes were wide and dark with emotion. It wasn't pity. Maybe concern. "I'm sorry."

"Thanks. My brothers and I were always close, but after that, we pulled together more. My dad remarried a couple of times, then moved to
Florida
. I haven't seen him since before Ben was born." And he didn't want to. He would never forgive his father for what he'd done to the family.

"You'll meet my brothers while you're here," he said. "We get together a lot."

"It sounds nice, but a little overwhelming. I'm an only child. As it is, I'm going to have my hands full adjusting to living with a houseful of men." She grinned. "I'm thrilled to have my own bathroom so I won't have to fight to keep the toilet seat down."

"I trained them better than that. It shouldn't be a problem anywhere."

She looked at the table, then at him. Her full mouth straightened. "You know, Craig, despite how you're beating yourself up right now, you've done a good job with the boys."

"I don't think I want to know how you read my mind."

"It wasn't hard. I think most single parents worry that they're not doing enough. Add to that the pressures that go with your job and it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out. But from what I saw today, they're good kids."

"I can't take credit for that," he said. "Everything is so messed up." Ben. What was he going to do about his oldest?

"Divorce has a way of doing that to families."

He took a swallow of beer. "So what's your story?"

"It's not very interesting." She leaned back in her chair and raised her hands, palms up. "I met a man I loved and who I thought loved me. It was a whirlwind courtship. I married him, and his two daughters came to live with us." She smiled, but there was sadness in her eyes.

"Patti and Heather were so sweet. I adored them. I wanted to be their mother. I did everything I could for them. I was working, so I didn't have a lot of time." She paused, as if thinking. "I was working extra hours. Aaron had high alimony payments so I supported the household. I really didn't mind. Looking back, I suppose I should have."

"How long has it been?"

"Eighteen months. I know what you're thinking. That I should be over it by now. In a way I am. It's just that I tried too hard not to think about it, and then one day I couldn't think about anything else."

"I'm surprised Aaron allowed you to support his two kids." He shook his head. "I guess I shouldn't be. My ex-wife used to tell me that I was old-fashioned. According to her, my philosophies about men and women went out with hoopskirts."

"We never really talked about it," she said. "I sort of offered and he accepted. It was an unspoken rule in our family. He didn't have to say what he wanted or needed. I just knew."

Craig understood about that kind of selfishness. He'd grown up watching his father expect the same from his mother. "But he never bothered figuring out what you wanted."

She shook her head. "The really sad part is, until a few months ago, I had convinced myself I didn't want anything at all. That just being part of the family was enough."

He and Krystal had been the same way, except in his case, he'd been the one anticipating her needs. She'd taken easily, without once feeling the need to give back. As a point of honor, he'd done the opposite of his father. He'd sworn fidelity. Foolishly, he'd expected the same. But Krystal had never agreed with him about that. In fact, they'd agreed on very little.

Jill drew in a slow breath. "Eventually I figured out Aaron married me to get custody of the children. It hurt, but I got over it. Then one day we ended up in court."

She drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her calves. He wanted to move around the table and comfort her. The impulse surprised him. He'd known this woman less than twenty-four hours. Yet there was something about the night. Something about the moment and the confessions that made it seem that they'd known each other for much longer. Maybe it was the shared pain. Like wounded warriors, they talked about their injuries and knew what the other had endured.

"His ex-wife won back custody of her daughters and just like that the girls were gone." She blinked several times. "Then Aaron didn't need me anymore."

Everything about her – the way her shoulders hunched forward, the set of her mouth, her fingers locked so tightly together that her knuckles turned white – told him there was more to the story. But he didn't ask.

She looked up and forced a shaky smile. "I tell myself it's Aaron's loss. I doubt I was the best wife in the world, but I tried hard, and I make a dynamite meat loaf. How many people can claim that kind of f-fame?" Her voice cracked on the last word.

She cleared her throat and continued. "I could have handled it," she said softly. "If only someone had told me it was just temporary. I wouldn't have felt like such a fool. I would have made sure it wouldn't hurt so bad."

"Your ex-husband and my ex-wife should be locked up together. They deserve each other."

She glanced at him. "I thought you said Krystal was, ah, you know."

"Dead?"

 
She nodded.

"She is. But they still deserve each other. Aaron sounds like a jerk."

"Don't expect me to defend him," she said. "I'm done with that. And while I appreciate the words of support, I'd like to remind you that you've known me a day. You've only heard my side of this story. His is probably completely different."

"Maybe, but I'll take your word for what really happened. I'm sure Aaron regrets the loss. You've got a lot going for you."

She chuckled. "Oh, sure. I have a temporary job, after which I'll be unemployed again. I'm divorced and just turned thirty. Men are lining up for miles."

He wanted to tell her he would line up, but that would lead them in a direction neither of them wanted to go. Even as he held back the words, he noticed how the soft light cast shadows on her face, highlighting her cheekbones. In his mind, she
did
have a lot going for her. She was bright, funny and sexy as hell. And small. Concern mixed with desire as he wondered if he would physically hurt her if they ever…

He cut off that line of thought. They weren't ever going to do anything. They'd both learned their lessons.

"You've probably been wondering why I'm living with Kim," she said. "I do plan to get back to my life. I did fine for just over a year. I grieved, I got angry, I did all the things those self-help books say you're supposed to. I moved on. Then one day I couldn't do anything but feel the pain. The thought of going to my job overwhelmed me. I realized that instead of actually going through the steps, I'd been talking about them and thinking about them, but not being in them, if that makes sense. Circling around them like a caged lion. I needed to get away and start over. Kim had lost her roommate so moving in with her seemed like the perfect thing to do. I leased out my condo and drove up."

She rested her chin on her knees. "You know what hurts the most?"

"No."

"I don't miss Aaron so much. I miss those girls. That was the worst. Finding out they'd been using me, too. Apparently they'd been calling their mother all the time and I never knew. She was telling them things about me. Mean things. I thought they cared about me and they didn't." Her voice got thick. She swallowed.

"In court—" She cleared her throat, obviously fighting tears. "In court, when we lost custody, I asked if I could see them sometime. The judge told me I had no legal rights. Then he asked the girls what they wanted. They laughed at me and made fun of me. I had no idea. I—"

He hadn't meant to go to her, but he couldn't watch her in pain anymore. He rose from his chair and circled the table. Before she could protest, he picked her up in his arms. She didn't weigh as much as Ben, he thought, surprised. She murmured a protest, but he ignored her and settled on her seat, with her on his lap.

She was as tiny as he'd imagined she would be, with slim arms, slender legs and small hands. She tried to push away.

"Damn it, Jill, I'm not making a pass at you," he said. "I'm giving you a hug."

"I know, but this—" Then a tear escaped from her right eye. She brushed it away and buried her face in his shoulder.

She didn't cry. She just huddled against him, shaking with misery. Her ragged breathing fanned his neck. He told himself it wasn't about sex, and despite the arousal pressing against his fly, it wasn't. She needed holding, and he needed to hold.

Craig tried to remember the last time he'd been this close to a woman. He tried to remember the last time he'd wanted to be.

He inhaled the sweet fragrance of Jill's body. He stroked his hands up and down her back. Bits of what she'd told him floated through his mind. He wanted to find her ex-husband and beat him into a bloody pulp. He wanted to talk some sense into those two girls. He worked with the worst type of humanity every day, but he hated to see others tainted and hurt by contamination.

"Damn," she said, and straightened. Her face was dry, her mouth pulled into a straight line. "This is horribly unprofessional behavior. I swear, I don't usually fall apart like this."

"It's okay."

"No, it's not. But thanks for pretending. You're a nice man."

She sniffed once, then slid off his lap. He let her go, because he had no excuse to keep her, and trying to make one up would be dangerous for both of them. At this moment, with his groin swollen and aching and his blood pounding through his heated body, he didn't feel very nice.

She brushed her cheek with the back of her hand, then smiled. If the corners trembled a little, he wasn't going to mention it.