“Hello sugar,” he said, pushing the door shut. His soft chuckle suggested a close relationship.

Carmen stared at the door a moment, listening to his hushed voice.

“No, she doesn’t know yet. I don’t want her to get suspicious. Why don’t you meet me on Saturday . . . say ten in the morning?”

Carmen walked away. Who might get suspicious, and who was he talking to? It was difficult to imagine this conversation was innocent, yet she must have faith in him. Nothing he had ever said or done indicated he would be unfaithful. Still, the telephone conversation was obviously private. His deep voice carried much further than he was aware.

Back in the kitchen, she loaded the dishwasher and put away leftovers. Alex came out of his office, glanced at her and then retired to his recliner to read the newspaper. When she sat in her chair and picked up the cake decorating catalog, he looked up.

“What do you have there?”

She held up the catalog. “It’s about cake decorating. I thought it looked interesting and might come in handy when I bake for the church.”

He nodded. “Are you still looking for more to fill your time?”

“Not really.” She put the catalog down.

He leaned forward, dropping the paper to his lap. His gaze searched her face. “Is something wrong?”

Did he suspect she had overheard his phone call? She shrugged. “No.”

Leaning back in his chair, he folded the newspaper methodically, still watching her.

“Did you decide not to get the rabbits, or do you have too much to do already?”

Her gaze left the book and sought his. Why was he suddenly so concerned about her spare time – or lack thereof? Nothing in his eyes gave a clue what was on his mind. Pushing back an ugly thought that he might be trying to keep her mind otherwise occupied, she let her gaze fall back to the book.

“I still want to get the rabbits, but I have other things I want to take care of first.”

“If the animals are too much . . .” he began.

“They aren’t,” she said, meeting his gaze again. “I like taking care of the animals. Nothing is wrong and I’m not overwhelmed with work.” She sighed and put down the book. “Everything has happened so fast. I’m just trying to adjust to being alone again.”

His gaze traveled over her face and then back to her eyes.

She sighed again. “Today I signed my name Carmen Pullock and then had to mark through it and sign it with my new name. I wonder what the sales lady thought.”

His gaze warmed and his voice was soft.

“I suppose she thought you were a newlywed. I hadn’t thought about it, but it must be difficult to use a different name after using it your entire childhood.”

Carmen gnawed at her lower lip. “Do you miss your freedom?”

A glint of humor came into his eyes. “It’s a little early for that, isn’t it?”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “I’d say it was a little late.”

He chuckled and leaned back into his chair without answering. Maybe it wasn’t the freedom he missed. Her heart skipped a beat as another thought surfaced. Maybe he was disappointed in her lack of experience. Warmth raced up her neck.

His brows lifted. “What?”

She stared at the book in her hands, her face getting hot. If that was the problem, she’d best address it – as soon as possible. But if it was so, wouldn’t he have instructed her? Maybe he was giving her time to learn, or he might think it would hurt her feelings.

When she finally looked up, his gaze was intent on her.

“Do I . . . satisfy . . . you?” She asked.

For a moment he looked puzzled. “Satisfy?” Comprehension put a twinkle in his eyes.

Are we finally discussing sex?”

When her face became a raging inferno, he smiled. “There’s nothing wrong with our sex life, Carmen.” His gaze remained on her face and when she didn’t respond – slowly became concerned. His smile faded.

“Is there?”

The swift change of expression might have been comical had she not been the cause. All this concern was making him feel inadequate.

“Not as far as I’m concerned,” she said.

He looked relieved. “Well, as long as you and I are happy with it, I guess that’s all that matters.”

All this talk was as ridiculous as it was uncomfortable. The phone call had to be something other than what it appeared. Jumping to conclusions wasn’t going to solve anything and she didn’t want to be a jealous wife. Mom always said jealousy would destroy a marriage quicker than anything. Surely that was an exaggeration - infidelity had to be worse.




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