Cathy Thacker - Her Secret Valentine

Cal threaded his fingers through the hair at the nape of Ashley’s neck and tilted her face to his. “We have to figure out a way to make this marriage of ours work.”

Fear mixed with her desire. “And what if it doesn’t?” The whispered words were out before Ashley could stop them.

Cal’s expression hardened. He took his hand away from her hair. “We’ll never know until we try.”

True.

“All right.” Ashley moved away from him. She twisted the glossy length of her hair into an austere knot and caught it in a butterfly clip.

“But if we do this and we do it on your timetable, then we do it on my terms.”

Cal lifted a brow. “Which are?”

“If I come back to North Carolina with you, then we can’t make love.”

Cal tried his best to keep his jaw from dropping.

Dear Reader,

I’m one of the lucky ones. The love of my life is also my very best friend. Marrying him was the easiest decision I ever made. Learning how to be married was a little tougher. (i.e., Should the toothpaste cap be left on or off? Is taking out the garbage a gender-oriented chore or an equal-opportunity event? Just how much information is too much? Or too little?) And though in the early days of our marriage our life together sometimes resembled a Hepburn-Tracy comedy, we eventually achieved a very nice balance and a healthy respect for each other’s wants and needs.

This is not, however, yet the case for Cal and Ashley Hart. College sweethearts, pursuing dual careers in medicine, they both expected everything to be just perfect when they finally tied the knot. It wasn’t. And neither could figure out why.

The problem? A failure to communicate.

And now Cal and Ashley are on the precipice. Do they cut their losses and prevent further hurt? Or roll up their sleeves, renew their commitment and get to work on the challenging task of making their marriage work in a very fundamental and satisfying way?

I hope you enjoy this story as much as I enjoyed creating it. For more information on this and other books, visit my Web site at www.cathygillenthacker.com.

Best wishes,

Cathy Gillen Thacker

This book is dedicated to Charlie, with all my love.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

“How long is this situation between you and Ashley going to go on?” Mac Hart asked.

Cal tensed. He’d thought he had been invited over to his brother Mac’s house to watch playoff football with the rest of the men in the family. Now, suddenly, it was looking more like an intervention. He leaned forward to help himself to some of the nachos on the coffee table in front of the sofa. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Then let us spell it out for you,” Cal’s brother-in-law, Thad Lantz, said with his usual coach-like efficiency.

Joe continued, “She missed Janey’s wedding to Thad in August, as well as Fletcher’s marriage to Lily in October, and Dylan and Hannah’s wedding in November.”

Cal bristled. They all knew Ashley was busy completing her Ob/Gyn fellowship in Honolulu. “She wanted to be here, but since the flight from Honolulu to Raleigh is at minimum twelve hours, it’s too far to go for a weekend trip. Not that she has many full weekends off in any case.” Nor did he. Hence, their habit of rendezvousing in San Francisco, since it was a six- or seven-hour flight for each of them.

More skeptical looks. “She didn’t make it back to Carolina for Thanksgiving or Christmas or New Year’s this year, either,” Dylan observed.

Cal shrugged and centered his attention on the TV, where a lot of pre-game nonsense was currently going on. “She had to work all three holidays.” He wished the game would hurry up and start. The sooner it did, the sooner this conversation would be over.

“Had to or volunteered to?” Fletcher muttered with a questioning lift of his dark brow.

Uneasiness settled around Cal. He’d had many of the same questions himself. Still, Ashley was his wife, and he felt honor-bound to defend her. “I saw her in November in San Francisco. We celebrated all our holidays then.” In one passion-filled weekend that had oddly enough left him feeling lonelier and more uncertain of their union than ever.

Concerned looks were exchanged all the way around. Cal knew the guys in the family all felt sorry for him, which just made the situation worse.

Dylan dipped a tortilla chip into the chili-cheese sauce. “So when is Ashley coming home?” he asked curiously.

That was just it—Cal didn’t know. Ashley didn’t want to talk about it. “Soon,” he fibbed.

Thad paused, his expression thoughtful. “I thought her fellowship was up in December.”

Cal sipped his beer, the mellow golden brew settling like acid in his gut. “She took her oral exam then and turned in her thesis.”

Fletcher helped himself to a buffalo wing. “Her written exam was last July, wasn’t it?”

Cal nodded. “But her last day at the hospital isn’t until January 15,” he cautioned. In a couple of days from now.

“And then she’s coming back home, right?”

That had been the plan, when Ashley had left two and a half years ago to complete her medical education in Hawaii. Now he wasn’t so sure that was the case. But not wanting to tell his brothers any of that, he simply said, “She’s looking for a job now.”

“Here, in North Carolina.”

Cal certainly hoped so, since he was committed to his job at the Holly Springs Medical Center for another eighteen months, minimum.

“If she were my wife…” Mac began.

“Funny,” Cal interrupted, the last of his legendary patience waning swiftly. “You don’t have a wife.”

“If it were me,” Mac continued, ignoring Cal’s glare as he added a piping-hot pizza to the spread, “I’d get on a plane to Honolulu, put her over my shoulder and carry her home if necessary.” His take-charge attitude served him well as the sheriff of Holly Springs, but his romantic track record hardly made him an expert on dishing out relationship advice.

“That John Wayne stuff doesn’t work with Ashley.” Never had. Never would.

“Well, you better do something,” Joe warned.

All eyes turned to him. Cal waited expectantly, knowing from the silence that fell there was more. Finally, Joe cleared his throat. “The women in the family are all upset. You’ve been married nearly three years now, and most of that time you and Ashley have been living apart.”

“So?” Cal prodded.

“So, they’re tired of seeing you so unhappy.” Dylan took over where Cal left off. “They’re giving you and Ashley till Valentine’s Day—”

Cal and Ashley’s wedding anniversary.

“—to make thing right.”

“And if that doesn’t happen?” Cal demanded.

Fletcher scowled. “Then the women in the family are stepping in.”

“IF YOU KEEP this up, people are going to start calling you the Artful Dodger.”

The low sexy voice with the hint of Southern drawl echoed through the Honolulu General staff lounge. Her heart leaping with a mixture of pleasure and surprise, Ashley turned to see her husband of almost three years standing in the doorway. Joy swept through her as she hungrily surveyed him.

Cal was wearing a loose-fitting tropical print silk shirt that made the most of his hard-muscled chest and broad shoulders. Pleated trousers nicely outlined his trim waistline and long sturdy legs. His short, traditionally cut ash-blond hair was brushed away from his face, and his smooth golden skin glowed with good health. The hint of a traveler’s beard clung to his strong—and exceedingly stubborn—Hart jaw. Taken alone, his features weren’t particularly outstanding. His nose bore the scars of a childhood athletic injury. His brows and thick, short eyelashes were so light in hue that you could hardly see them, and his upper lip was a little on the thin side. And yet, together, those penetrating pewter-gray eyes and not-so-perfect features combined to make a drop-everything, he-is-so-arresting man. Not to mention, she thought wistfully, how stealthily he moved—as if all that male power were just waiting to be unleashed. Or how intimately he looked at her, which suggested he couldn’t wait to get her back into his arms and into his bed.