Rebecca Winters - Another Man's Wife

His back was still toward her, but even his formal midnight-blue suit couldn’t disguise his solid build which had been noticeable in all those old pictures.

When she’d met him, he’d reminded her of an Olympic cross-country skier who could do a 50 K race, like the men from Norway or Sweden with their tall, splendid bodies in the peak of physical condition.

She’d never confided those thoughts to Scott who’d stood five eleven and worked out whenever possible to try and emulate his friend’s appearance. There were some things you didn’t tell your husband.

Laurel was in touching distance of him now. She let go of Brent and put a hand on the man’s arm.

“Hawk? It is you, isn’t it?”

Now it was the other couple who’d stopped dancing.

Like a person who’d just been shot, the man dropped his hands. The woman excused herself before he turned slowly in Laurel’s direction.

It had been nine years since they’d met. Time and experience had refined the rugged good looks she remembered, but the cold blue eyes staring back at her weren’t familiar.

One strong hand closed over his other arm at the wrist. Not a word came out of him. The negative tension he emanated was so palpable she felt unsure of herself and searched for Brent’s hand, gripping it for support.

“You probably don’t remember me. It’s been too many years. I’m—”

“I know who you are,” he broke in before she could say her name or introduce him to Brent. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m attending a wedding party.”

As he strode away from her, she could’ve sworn he muttered “Have a nice life.”

Brent was there to cradle her so she wouldn’t fall. She buried her face against his shoulder for a moment to hide her pain, then pulled away in embarrassment.

“W-would you help me to the elevator, please?”

Ruddy color had filled his cheeks. “That bastard! Who the hell does he think he is to treat you like that?”

“It doesn’t matter. Just dance me over to the entrance. Don’t say anything to Julie or the kids.”

The next few minutes were a blur as he took her all the way to the room. When he would’ve stayed to comfort her, she had to push him out the door to make him leave.

“I’m so sorry to have dragged you from dinner. Go back upstairs and enjoy the rest of the evening with your family. I’m going to take a shower and get into bed. By the time you’re all back, I’ll be fully recovered.”

“Laurel—”

“I feel like a fool and I don’t want to talk about it. You’re a good man. My sister’s the luckiest woman I know. Now go.”

“All right, but we won’t be long.”

The second he’d gone, she crept over to the bed and lay on her side.

No one had ever treated her as cruelly as Hawk had done a few minutes ago.

She felt as if he’d lifted her from the ground and thrashed her against a wall.

Hot tears gushed from her eyes. It had been months since she’d cried like this.

What did Scott or I ever do to you, Hawk?

What?

RICK WALKED into the house ahead of Nate. He flipped on the living room lights, and they stared at each other. “It’s just you and me.”

Nate tugged at his tie before he threw it and his suit jacket over the back of a chair. He missed. Everything fell in a heap on the floor. Not bothering to pick them up, he unfastened the top button of his shirt. It popped off.

Rick’s eyes followed his out-of-control movements. “Want to start by telling me what you and our father’s new bride were talking about on the dance floor? Or shall we cut to the chase? Explain why you looked so ill after you came back to the table.”

His brother deserved explanations if anyone did, but for the life of him he couldn’t find the words.

Lord. Her eyes.

Could a woman who looked that hurt be guilty of the crime he’d accused her of in his heart?

“I couldn’t eat dinner, either, but I feel like a beer,” Rick said. “Do you want one?”

“Yes. Thanks.”

While his brother went to the kitchen, Nate studied the various family pictures their mother had placed around the room. He had his favorites. Like gravity, they pulled him in for a closer look.

“Do you remember the ad on TV?” Rick handed him an ice-cold lager. “The one that said, ‘it’s eleven o’clock. Parents, do you know where your children are?’”

Nate nodded.

“It’s like the roles have been reversed. Children, it’s eleven o’clock. Do you know where your parents are?”

Their eyes met again.

“We don’t have to worry that Pam could be expecting a baby,” Nate began. “Dad chose not to sleep with her until after they’d said their marriage vows.”

Rick did a double take. “She came right out and told you that?”

“She did.” Nate chugged down half the contents of his can. “There’s more.”

In a few minutes he’d told Rick the essence of their conversation on the dance floor.

His brother let out a long whistle. “What if her family’s right?”

“I’ve been asking myself the same question.”

“A few minutes ago I was thinking there’s no more reason for us to be here. Jim hasn’t said anything, but I suspect he’d buy Dad out, given the opportunity.”

“With a good loan from the bank, he could probably do it,” Nate agreed. “The house could be rented.”

Rick sat down on the couch. “I can see we’re on the same wavelength, as usual. But after what Pam told you, maybe there’s a chance Dad doesn’t know his own mind yet….”

“That’s the kicker.” Nate had the strongest suspicion it would break Pamela’s heart. “Under the circumstances, there’s no point in both of us staying here.”

His brother’s head reared up. “I was just going to tell you the same thing! What I’ve been doing for a living is selfish and has little redeeming value. In contrast, my brother protects our country’s freedom and puts his life on the line every time he goes up in the air. Nothing’s more noble than that.”

“We need people to race cars, too. It brings in advertising, which in turn keeps the world economy going.”

“You’re so full of it, you almost convince me.” Rick heaved a sigh. “But it’s a moot point now. When I broke the racing contract with my sponsor, they made it clear I’ve burned my bridges.” He took a moment to drink some of his beer. “Let’s agree to table this discussion until next week, after they’re back from Hawaii.

“Maybe home will feel good to Dad. They might not leave for her ranch right away, if at all. He may need us yet.”

“I suppose anything’s possible.”

Rick leaned forward, hands clasped between his legs. “What else has been tearing you up for the last couple of hours?”

“It has to do with Spade.”

“I’ve lost a close buddy on the track. I don’t think it’s something you ever forget. What made tonight so difficult?”

“His wife was out on the dance floor. Correction. His merry widow.”

His brother frowned at him. “How about a translation?”

“His very pregnant widow.”

“That still doesn’t help me.”

“Not only could Spade never give Laurel a child, we were flying with the NATO forces when the conception would’ve taken place. It’s been less than seven months since the crash. I’ve got eyes in my head. She’s close to her delivery date. Plus, earlier tonight, I saw her kissing another man in the elevator.”

“Ouch.”

“I don’t give a damn about her. But what if Spade called her before his accident and found out she’d been playing around….”

Rick got to his feet. “You can’t assume she had anything to do with the reason he crashed.”

“Why can’t I?” Nate challenged.