“You’re not making me feel any better, Joe,” Abby mumbled.
“I’m not done yet. Have you ever watched two people who are really in love? They can’t keep their hands off each other. They spend every possible second together and they sure as hell don’t go out with anyone else. And if a woman did, any normal man who was in love would be ready to make a few heads roll.”
“So what’s your point?”
“My point, Abby, is that Tate was just as happy when Diane wasn’t around as he was when he was with her. He knew damn well she was going out with other men, but to look at him, you’d have thought he couldn’t care less. He didn’t break it off, he didn’t do anything. Every time she threw his ring back at him, he’d just stick it in his pocket and wait until she came running back. At least, that’s what usually happened. But that night he was with you, they had the biggest knock down, drag out argument you’ve ever seen in your life. And Tate started it. Good old responsible Tate. Not only did he start the fight, he was the one who broke their engagement that time. Now, why do you think he did that after all those years of putting up with her?”
This time, Abby’s smile was genuine. “I suspect you’re about to tell me.”
“Damn right, I am. He did it because some part of him, a part that he’d buried so deep he couldn’t see it any more, got scared. Diane was showing signs that she might actually marry him. Suddenly, that hidden part of Tate saw everything he really wanted slipping away from him. But he thought he had a responsibility to her and, being Tate, he couldn’t consciously let go of it. So he did the only thing he could do. He got drunk enough to let that other Tate out. And that one made a beeline straight to you.”
She stared at him. “Are you saying that Tate wanted to get me pregnant?”
“Not really. At least not consciously. But I am saying that hidden part of him was looking for a way out. Did he ever hesitate when he found out you were pregnant?” Joe shook his head. “I can tell you, he didn’t. He married you so fast that he didn’t even bother to tell his best friend about it. Why? In this day and age there are lots of other options besides marriage. And yet I’d be willing to bet Tate never even brought them up. You see, the only way he could honorably get rid of his responsibility to Diane was to have an even bigger one to you.”
“He used me?” Abby couldn’t keep the outrage from her voice. “As if I didn’t have enough problems of my own, he had to get me pregnant just so he’d have an excuse to break up with Diane?”
Joe grinned. “Calm down. Tate doesn’t have a clue as to why he did it and there wasn’t any way he could know for sure you’d get pregnant. As for using you, Abby, that bar was full of women, any one of whom would have loved to take Tate home. If he’d just wanted an excuse to be rid of Diane, any of them would have done the trick. But he didn’t go with any of those women. He waited until you got off work and then followed you. You were the one he wanted. The only one.”
Abby dropped her face onto her knees, rocking back and forth. “You’re crazy. Both of you are crazy. I’m surrounded by crazy people.”
Joe laughed. “You may be right about that, but I have to tell you, that show Tate put on yesterday was about the finest example of insane jealousy I’ve ever seen.” He tilted her head up and forced her to look at him. “Abby, he was never jealous of Diane, even when she was sleeping with half the men in town. I admit the boy is a little on the slow side about things like this, but right now he’s pretty confused. Give him a chance to work it out for himself before you think about leaving. You won’t be sorry, I promise.”
“How come you know all this stuff?”
Joe grinned and tweaked her nose. “I wouldn’t want this to get around, but I majored in psychology in college. I’ve had lots of time to analyze Tate. Don’t tell him, but I even used him as a case model for my thesis. Got an ‘A’ on it, too.”
They were still laughing when the fist connected with Joe’s jaw. His head snapped to the side and he flew through the air from the force of the impact, landing flat on his back in the yard.
Tate’s voice, tight with rage, came from right beside Abby. “Don’t you ever touch my wife again.”
“Ohmygod.” Abby leaped to her feet and spun. Tate towered over her, his hands still fisted, every muscle in his body tight with tension. All she could do was gape at him in surprise. He hadn’t come from around the house, so he must have come in the back door and moved through the house to the front porch. Had he heard everything Joe had told her? From the corner of her eye she saw Joe shake his head, one hand gingerly rubbing his jaw.
“Howdy to you too, Hoss. Mind telling me what this is all about?”
“You know damn well what it’s about, you son of a bitch.” Tate started down the steps, clearly intent on finishing what he’d started.
Abby threw herself in front of him, one hand on his chest. “Stop right there! He may know what it’s about, but I sure don’t. I want an explanation and I want it now!”
Tate stopped but his angry gaze never left Joe. “He’s in love with you, that’s what’s wrong.”
This time both Abby and Joe gaped at him. She turned to look at Joe, careful to stay in front of Tate. “Do you have any idea what he’s talking about?”
“Not a one.” Joe finally sat up.
“Are you denying you told me Friday night you were in love with Abby?” Tate started forward again, but Abby leaned back on him.
“Don’t you dare move another inch.” She glared at him over her shoulder.
“You’re damn right I’m denying it.” Joe stared at him. “I said no such thing.”
“You said you were jealous of me.”
Joe’s face went blank for all of two seconds. “And you thought that meant…” He sputtered to a halt, a choking noise coming from his mouth. Suddenly he fell over on the ground again.
“Joe?” Abby took a concerned step forward then stopped in disgust. He was laughing!
“Quick, Abby,” he howled. “Get me a pen and paper. I should be able to get my Ph.D. with this one.”
She threw her hands up in the air. “That’s it! I’ve had it with both of you. Don’t either one of you talk to me again until you’re ready to act like adults!” She marched up the steps and into the house, slamming the door behind her.
* * * * *
After ten minutes of pacing furiously up and down the bedroom, Abby was ready to scream with frustration. She plopped back onto the bed, laying spread-eagle, her mind going a hundred miles an hour.
In a weird kind of way, everything Joe had told her made sense. Especially since she’d gotten to know Tate a little better in the last few weeks. After that asinine display outside, she could no longer doubt that he was jealous. The question was why? There were so many “whys” that she got dizzy just thinking about them.
Why had Tate chosen her that night? And she knew now that he had, was only surprised that she hadn’t realized it before. He’d been waiting for her when she got off work that night, had insisted on taking her home. And because she’d already been in love with him, she’d said yes in spite of her reservations.
She hadn’t expected him to walk her to the door, but he had. And when she had thanked him for the ride and was about to leave him on the porch, she hadn’t expected his words. Abby closed her eyes, remembering.
His hand had curved around her nape so gently, his voice soft with yearning. “Let me come in, please. I’m tired of being alone.”
She hadn’t understood then what he’d meant. As far as she knew, he was never alone. But something about the way he’d said it sent shivers of sympathy over her. She knew what it was like to be alone, to need someone to care, even if only for a moment. And she loved him. That’s why she’d let him in.
Maybe he knew that on some level. Maybe that’s why he’d chosen her. Because she cared.
But that still didn’t explain his jealousy. She might think it was just sexual possessiveness if Joe hadn’t told her about Tate’s reaction t
o Diane’s infidelity. She scooted up in the bed and leaned against the headboard, pulling her knees up and wrapping her arms around them. If he hadn’t been jealous of the woman he loved, why on earth would he be jealous of one he didn’t?
Unless maybe he really hadn’t loved Diane. Could that possibly mean he cared about her? If he did, he was doing a fantastic job of hiding it, from her and himself. Was there a chance she could get him to realize it? Assuming it was true, of course.
She was so deep in thought she didn’t hear the footsteps coming up the stairs, didn’t know he was anywhere around until he knocked softly on the door.
“Abby? Can I come in?”
She eyed the door warily, but stayed silent, watching as the knob started to turn. Finally, he pushed the door all the way open, hesitating on the threshold like he was afraid to come in. Her gaze ran over him, checking for blood or bruises. There weren’t any. Just a small smear of dirt on the front of his T-shirt.
“Hi. I guess you’re still mad at me, aren’t you?” His hat was in his hands and he was turning it restlessly. When she still didn’t speak he took a step farther into the room. “I planted the rest of the rose bushes for you.”
Abby tilted her head. “And did you bury Joe under them?” The strangest little tingle of excitement was unfurling inside her.
The expression on Tate’s face became sheepish. “No. He went home.”
“Can’t say as I blame him. Are you going to explain to me exactly what’s going on here?”
He came the rest of the way into the room, closing the door behind him before moving to the side of the bed. “I told you. I thought he was in love with you.”
“And that’s why you slugged him? The only reason?”
“Yes.”
What she was about to say was going to be a risk, but it was one she had to take. She studied him intently. “Does this mean I can expect Clayton Caldwell to show up in the near future to make mincemeat of you?”
He stopped pacing and stared at her. “What are you talking about?”
She shrugged. “If all it takes to provoke an attack on someone is knowing that person is in love with your wife, then Clayton should be here any time now.”
“That’s different and it has nothing to do with this.”
“Why is it different, Tate? Could it be because you’re jealous? That’s what Joe thinks, anyway.”
“Joe is wrong.” He started pacing again. “I’ve never been the jealous type.”
“You hit Joe,” she pointed out.
“Damn it, Abby! He was touching you! You’re my wife.” His movements were becoming more agitated by the second. “Mine!” He poked himself in the chest. “You’re my woman and, if that makes you mad, I’m sorry. But it’s the truth and you’re just gonna have to learn to live with it. I’m not going to have every man in the county putting his hands on you. Do you understand me?”
Abby couldn’t stop the smile that curved up the corners of her lips. Could barely contain her laughter. “Yes, Tate. I understand perfectly.”
He came to a sudden halt at the meek tone of her voice, staring at her suspiciously. “Why are you smiling?”
Her smile turned into a full-fledged grin. “Because you’re jealous.”
“I am not jealous! I told you, I never get…” His words trailed off and suddenly he sank down on the side of the bed, his face buried in his hands. “Oh, God,” he groaned. “You’re right. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before. Every time Joe so much as looked at you I wanted to kill him. Then when I saw him actually touch you, I just lost control.”
For now, it was enough, Abby decided. More than enough. Certainly more than she’d ever dared dream about. It was time to stop pushing him.
She had his shirt off before he noticed what she was doing.
“Abby?” The look he gave her was full of uncertainty.
Abby smiled as she ran her hands over the hard muscles of his chest. “Lie down, Tate.” She pushed him backwards gently. This time, she decided, he was going to be the one begging for mercy.
An hour and a half later Tate reached weakly for his jeans.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Abby held on to him.
“To find Joe.”
“And apologize?”
“No. I figure if all this is because of one punch, I can’t wait to see happens when I beat the shit out of him.”
Abby pounced on him, pinning him to the bed while she laughed. “Drop those pants, cowboy. I’ve got plans for the rest of the day.”
Chapter Eighteen
Tate leaned back in the leather chair, hands laced behind his head, as he stared at the birth certificate on his desk. One month. Abby’s birthday was in one month and she hadn’t said a word. He never would have known if he hadn’t decided to clean off his desk.
Now the only problem was what to do about it. From down the hall he could hear the low sound of Abby humming and he grinned. She’d been doing that a lot for the last three weeks. Ever since the day he’d punched Joe. So what if she was a little off-key? He still loved to listen to her.
Whatever he did for her birthday, it would have to be a surprise, he decided. Preferably something that would give them some time alone together. And he needed a present for her. Something really special. Buddy would help him and he could even rope Hank into getting involved.
As a matter of fact, he could get started right now and he had the perfect excuse for going to town. He pushed the chair back and went into the kitchen. Abby was at the sink, her hands buried in soapy water. Her hair was piled up on top of her head, exposing the delicate line of her neck.
Tate slipped quietly up behind her and put his arms around her waist, noting the new fullness of her body even as his lips trailed over the soft skin. It seemed to be getting harder every day to keep his hands off her. Not that he wanted to and she certainly didn’t seem to mind. “Um, you taste good.”
Abby bent her head to allow him greater access, a smile bringing out the dimples in her cheeks. “I thought you had some paperwork to do.”
“All finished.” He turned her around to face him. “Now I’ve got other plans.”
“Oh?” She arched an eyebrow.
Tate grinned at her. “Not those kind of plans, although I might be persuaded later. Right now we’re going to town.”
“Town?” She looked startled. “Why? We got groceries two days ago. We don’t need anything else yet.”
“Yes we do.” His hand moved to her abdomen. “It suddenly occurred to me that there are some things you need, things like a new wardrobe. You can’t go around for the next five months with your pants undone.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh, but I can make any clothes I need. Really. There’s no reason to buy anything.”
“Abby.” He put a finger under her chin and lifted. “I know you could make them. But this is my first baby, too. I want to be a part of all of it. So, make me happy and let me do this for you.”
“Well, when you put it like that, how can I say no?” Her smile lit up the whole room. “Just let me finish the dishes and I’ll be ready.”
“Forget the dishes. We’re going now.”
“But Tate—”
“No buts. Come on.”
* * * * *
“Well, I was wondering when you two were going to make it in. I’d just about given up hope.”
Tate grinned at the elderly lady behind the counter. “How are you, Mrs. Simpson?”
“Can’t complain, Tate. My health is fine and business is good. ‘Course, being the only maternity shop in town doesn’t hurt.” She laughed. “Now, are you gonna introduce me to your wife?”
“Mrs. Simpson, this is Abby. I want you to fix her up with everything she could possibly need and don’t take no for an answer.”
Abby shot him a stricken gaze and he grinned at her as Mrs. Simpson answered.
“Don’t you worry a bit, Abby. Just leave everything to me and we’ll have you all set in no time at all. Whe
n’s the baby due?”
“December sixteenth.”
“Hmm. That means you’ll need summer and winter outfits both.” She waved a hand at Tate. “You might as well get on out of here, Tate. This could take a spell.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Before he could leave, Abby grabbed his hand desperately. “Tate, I don’t know what to do! I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“Just relax and enjoy it, sweetheart. It’s going to be fine. Mrs. Simpson’s been doing this forever. You can trust her.”
“Where are you going?”
Tate ran a finger down her cheek. “I’ve got some errands I need to run. I’ll meet you at the cafe when you’re all finished. Okay?” He smiled at her and she gave him a tentative smile back.
“Okay.”
He waited until Mrs. Simpson started dragging clothes off the rack, then slipped out of the store. By the time he’d finished all his chores, an hour and a half had passed. Abby must be getting close to being done if she wasn’t already.
Pushing open the door of the cafe, he let his gaze sweep the room, then let out a sigh. Good. He’d been afraid she would panic if he weren’t waiting on her. He took a booth on the outside wall, putting the bag he carried on the table.
“Hi, Tate. What can I get you?” A glass of water was plunked down in front of him.
“Just coffee for now, Deb. I’m waiting on someone.”
“One coffee coming up.” The waitress stuck her order pad back in her pocket and headed toward the counter, murmuring a vague “excuse me” to someone who had just come in.
He’d barely taken a sip of water when he suddenly knew. The scent of her perfume filled the air, floating ahead of her, exotic and mysterious. His whole body tensed, his stomach clenching into a hard knot that sat in his middle like a lump of lead. He’d know that fragrance anywhere. Diane.