part of himself in letting it go. That was the undefined something about Mac that had nearly frightened her off then. And during those first months of their marriage, she had wondered why he had been so insistent on moving back to his hometown so soon. It was to take himself out of the area of temptation. Away from the Club, his friends, and Jethro.
Had he been hoping he wouldn't miss what he never saw?
Had she known this was coming?
That question had tormented her more often in the past year or two. Had she been drawn to Mac because he personified everything she had been too frightened to reach out for? A sexual and personal freedom that had been so restrained within her? Had she let Mac steal her heart because she knew he would challenge more than just her intellect?
She snorted in disgust. This was insane. She didn't want a ménage. She liked fantasizing about it. She enjoyed daydreaming about it. But the reality of it raised problems within her mind that she couldn't solve.
Not the gossip, but emotions and feelings she had no business contemplating. If Jethro ever came back into their lives, she knew she would be torn. Knew that the past infatuation she had felt for him would raise its ugly head and risk everything she had with the man who owned her soul.
She couldn't allow that.
But that didn't mean Mac could get away with not discussing this forever. The longer it remained between them like this, the worse it was going to get.
Sitting in her office, Keiley had a clear view of the back farmyard. The tall red barn with its white trim surrounded by white fences and greener-than-green grass. And moving outside the wide double doors of the barn was her husband. Working once again on a tractor that was older than dirt and a hell of a lot less useful.
He had new tractors, but he continually worked on that old one, tinkering with it when he was worried or thinking. He had been tinkering with it a lot lately. Much more than often.
She leaned against the window, narrowing her eyes against the sunlight spearing into the room, realizing that her husband was tinkering with that tractor rather than talking to her.
He used to talk to her.
He wasn't talking anymore, and she was getting tired of it.
Crossing her arms over her breasts, she tapped her ringers against her arm and glared at her husband. Three nights he had come in late, long after she had gone to sleep. And before that? Before that, sex had been hurried. Quickies. In the shower or afterward.
While he was in control. That was something she had markedly noticed. He had only touched her when he was in complete control of himself and his sexuality.
She wanted all of her husband. She especially wanted the parts of him that he thought he should hide from her.
His sexuality. Because his sexuality was tied into so much of who and what he was.
From the information she had about his investigative work, she knew that many of the cases he had worked had involved sexual crimes.
Sexual deviants were his specialty. Had that talent grown from an understanding of them before he came into the agency? Had his own sexuality been influenced by something more than an excessive sex drive?
The questions were driving her crazy. As were the suspicions and her fears that this would end up affecting her marriage in ways that it couldn't be repaired.
Inhaling deeply, Keiley straightened from the edge of the patio door and moved into the warmth of the summer afternoon, heading for the barn and her husband.
The workhands had the day off; Mac normally didn't work all day Sunday. By all appearances, he intended to work today on that old tractor, though.
The tractor was his psychiatrist, she often mused. It had been his grandfather's. It hadn't actually worked since his grandfather's death twenty years before. But Mac still tinkered with it when he needed to
think. She wondered if he would work out the problems that had that frown brewing between his eyes by the time he managed to fix
Had he been hoping he wouldn't miss what he never saw?
Had she known this was coming?
That question had tormented her more often in the past year or two. Had she been drawn to Mac because he personified everything she had been too frightened to reach out for? A sexual and personal freedom that had been so restrained within her? Had she let Mac steal her heart because she knew he would challenge more than just her intellect?
She snorted in disgust. This was insane. She didn't want a ménage. She liked fantasizing about it. She enjoyed daydreaming about it. But the reality of it raised problems within her mind that she couldn't solve.
Not the gossip, but emotions and feelings she had no business contemplating. If Jethro ever came back into their lives, she knew she would be torn. Knew that the past infatuation she had felt for him would raise its ugly head and risk everything she had with the man who owned her soul.
She couldn't allow that.
But that didn't mean Mac could get away with not discussing this forever. The longer it remained between them like this, the worse it was going to get.
Sitting in her office, Keiley had a clear view of the back farmyard. The tall red barn with its white trim surrounded by white fences and greener-than-green grass. And moving outside the wide double doors of the barn was her husband. Working once again on a tractor that was older than dirt and a hell of a lot less useful.
He had new tractors, but he continually worked on that old one, tinkering with it when he was worried or thinking. He had been tinkering with it a lot lately. Much more than often.
She leaned against the window, narrowing her eyes against the sunlight spearing into the room, realizing that her husband was tinkering with that tractor rather than talking to her.
He used to talk to her.
He wasn't talking anymore, and she was getting tired of it.
Crossing her arms over her breasts, she tapped her ringers against her arm and glared at her husband. Three nights he had come in late, long after she had gone to sleep. And before that? Before that, sex had been hurried. Quickies. In the shower or afterward.
While he was in control. That was something she had markedly noticed. He had only touched her when he was in complete control of himself and his sexuality.
She wanted all of her husband. She especially wanted the parts of him that he thought he should hide from her.
His sexuality. Because his sexuality was tied into so much of who and what he was.
From the information she had about his investigative work, she knew that many of the cases he had worked had involved sexual crimes.
Sexual deviants were his specialty. Had that talent grown from an understanding of them before he came into the agency? Had his own sexuality been influenced by something more than an excessive sex drive?
The questions were driving her crazy. As were the suspicions and her fears that this would end up affecting her marriage in ways that it couldn't be repaired.
Inhaling deeply, Keiley straightened from the edge of the patio door and moved into the warmth of the summer afternoon, heading for the barn and her husband.
The workhands had the day off; Mac normally didn't work all day Sunday. By all appearances, he intended to work today on that old tractor, though.
The tractor was his psychiatrist, she often mused. It had been his grandfather's. It hadn't actually worked since his grandfather's death twenty years before. But Mac still tinkered with it when he needed to
think. She wondered if he would work out the problems that had that frown brewing between his eyes by the time he managed to fix
Similar Books
Ember
K.T. Fisher
Scandalous
Missy Johnson
Sword Play
Clayton Emery
Sips of Blood
Mary Ann Mitchell
Bad Friends
Claire Seeber
TRACE EVIDENCE: The Hunt for the I-5 Serial Killer
Bruce Henderson
Vampires
Charles Butler
Foreign Tongue
Vanina Marsot
Page from a Tennessee Journal (AmazonEncore Edition)
Francine Thomas Howard