Rebecca Winters - One Winter's Sunset

“You’ve got enough on your plate.”

She could see him distancing himself, doing what he always did and taking all the problems on his shoulders. Putting another brick in the wall between them. Her first instinct was to throw up her hands and walk away, but really, had doing that made anything better?

Emily reached out and put a hand on his arm, a touch of comfort, but one that sent a zing through her. “Remember when we first got married and you were working around the clock, trying to pay the bills and launch the business?”

He nodded. “We’d stay up half the night, eating junk food and talking.”

She laughed. “Kind of like we’re doing tonight.”

His gaze softened, and she let her touch drop away. “Yeah, kind of like tonight.”

“Then why don’t we sit down and talk it out? I may not know anything about technology, but I can be a good listener.” I’m still here, Cole, she wanted to say. I’ve always been here. Even if you stopped reaching out to me. “I know you, Cole. If you’re up in the middle of the night, it’s because something is troubling you.”

His features softened. “You still know me better than I know myself.”

She didn’t reply because a part of her felt like she didn’t know him at all. Maybe they’d kept too much of themselves back for too long to ever find that connection again.

“Before I came down here, I was pacing my room, jotting down ideas, trying to figure out a solution to a problem at work.” Then he waved it off. “But I don’t want to keep you up, too. Go to bed, Em. I’ll figure it out.”

Maybe he’d stopped coming to her because she’d stopped asking. Stopped being there. Could he be caught in the same feeling of disconnect as she was?

Either way, she hated seeing this stress and tension on his face. She reached out and gave his hand a light touch. “Let’s finish that pie and save the world. Or at least the world of Watson Technology Development.”

“You sure you want me to bore you with the details?”

“I don’t mind. If you want my opinion, that is.”

“Of course I do, Em. You’ve always had great ideas when it came to the business. Maybe I should have hired you to work for me as a consultant.”

She laughed. “That would have been a disaster.”

“Maybe yes, maybe no.” A tease lit his eyes. “Will you work on commission?”

She feigned deep thought. “Depends. Is there pie involved?”

“Always.” He grinned. They crossed to the bar and took their seats again. The small kitchen light washed the room in a pale gold glow, while the moonlight added touches of silver. Outside, an owl hooted, but the world was quiet and still, except for this small corner of the Gingerbread Inn.

Cole steepled his fingers, a move Emily knew signaled he was getting serious. “I’ve got a huge order for the next generation of cell phones from one of my biggest customers. The launch is in place, the customer is ready for the rollout, but the product is delayed. We’ve had them under development for over a year, and things were on track, but then the plant that is making the screens was damaged in a storm. We found a backup supplier for the screens, but their quality hasn’t been the best. So now we’re stuck without a screen supplier, and the first order is due to drop in a week.”

“All you have left to do is add the screens?”

He nodded. “If we had some to add, yes.”

“Then do what you do best, Cole. Build it yourself.” She tapped the counter before him. “Remember when you first started out, you had those prototype screens you made? You never used them because you found a supplier who could make them cheaper.”

“That’s right. They’re still in the warehouse somewhere.” He sat back, and Emily could see the wheels turning in Cole’s head. “We could substitute those, at least for the first drop order, and that’ll give the Japanese supplier time to get back online and ship the order to us.” He gave his forehead a smack. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of it myself.”

She shrugged. “Sometimes it’s just a matter of hearing another opinion.”

“A smart and wise opinion at that.” He leaned back on the bar stool, his gaze skimming over her features. “I’ve missed hearing your opinion, Em. I guess I stopped asking. Or I stopped getting up in the middle of the night for pie.”

If he had, would things be different? If he’d included her in the day-to-day of his company? Or asked her to do more than just attend another banquet or golf tournament? “It’s been a long time since you asked what I think,” she said.

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me, too.”

The moment extended between them, full of regrets and missed opportunities. Cole was the first to look away, shifting his gaze to the plate before them. “Last bite. It’s all yours. Payment for services rendered, as agreed.”

“Oh, you can have it, Cole. I don’t—”

He speared the last bit of pie, then held it before her lips. “I know you, Emily. And I know you want this.”

His voice was low and dark, and sent a wave of temptation through her. Not for the pie—he was right, she always wanted pie—but for him. Damn. She’d always wanted him, too. No matter what.

She opened her lips and took the bite from him, slow, easy, their gazes locked, and the piece of pie became about much more than just some slices of cinnamon-glazed apples and flaky crust. Heat unfurled in her gut, and for a second she wished Cole would just lean her back against that counter and take her right here, right now. That it could be like it used to be, without the muddle of the past ten years.

“Delicious,” he said. “Isn’t it?”

“Very.” She licked her lips and watched Cole watching her tongue. “Too bad it’s all gone.”

“Definitely too bad.” Was she talking about the pie? Or the fact that she had enjoyed Cole feeding her? Enjoyed that one-on-one attention, like a laser?

The clock on the wall ticked by the wee hours. Somewhere outside, an owl hooted. Cole’s eyes met Emily’s. “Oh, Em, what are we doing here?”

“Having pie.”

“And now that the pie is gone?”

He was talking about more than whether they were going to put the dish in the sink or grab another snack. Cole was asking her the one question she couldn’t answer. What was going to happen next? With them?

As much as she wanted to believe they could take this moment and use it to rebuild their marriage, she was acutely aware that a new life was growing inside her. A child Cole didn’t want.

She’d become a package deal, her and Sweet Pea. The problem was, Cole only wanted half the package.

She drew back. “I don’t know, Cole. I really don’t.”

“Then let’s leave it here, on this sweet, pie-flavored note.” He quirked a grin in her direction. “Always leave them wanting more, isn’t that the old saying?”

“And do you? Want more?” Damn it all, she still wanted him, still couldn’t back away.

He cupped her jaw, his thumb tracing over her lips, following the path her tongue had taken. “God, yes,” he said. “That’s one thing that’s never changed, Emily. I always want you. Always have. Always will.”

That sent a little thrill through her, but she tamped it down. Desire was never their problem. She’d wanted him from the moment she’d met him, and still did. She drew in a breath, held it, then exhaled again, with a dose of clarity. “A marriage requires more than just sexual attraction.”

He sat back on the stool. A whisper of cold air filled the space between them. “Then let’s work on the other things a good marriage requires.” She started to protest, but he held up a finger, stopping her. “We’re here together for a few days at least, right? And yes, I know we’re separated and a step away from divorced, but at the very least, let’s try to learn how to connect with each other so that going forward, everything is amicable.”