She reared back as if he’d slapped her in the face. In a way, he had. “I was thinking about experiencing all the orgasms I never got when I was married to you. And Decker might not have phrased it nicely, but he’s absolutely right. I didn’t feel valued, Owen. I don’t think you ever truly loved me. If you came here for advice, I’ll give it to you. Start by caring about something besides work. Romance is important. Sex is more than a bodily function. Don’t make her feel like an interruption or your dirty necessity. You did that to me all the time, you . . . jerk.”
The enormity of what she’d just said hit her. She gasped. Had that really just spewed from her mouth? Her mama had taught her that if she didn’t have anything nice to say, she shouldn’t say anything at all. But if he’d come here for the truth, why not give it to him? Clearly Decker was rubbing off on her . . .
“What she said,” he added with a proud smile.
“I’m speechless,” Owen admitted, looking stupefied. “I didn’t know you felt that strongly about frivolous things like flowers and intercourse. I married you because I thought you were far too sensible to care much for such inane things.”
“You didn’t ask. And honestly, you wouldn’t have cared how I felt, Owen. And I’ll tell you the truth. Carly probably cares about those things, too, because she’s a woman, not a robot. If you want to keep her, you need to figure out how to meet her halfway.”
“I never meant to hurt you,” he offered.
Too little, too late. Rachel sighed. “I know. It’s water under the bridge. I just hope you’re ready to be a better man and partner with Carly.”
Owen didn’t answer. He simply sat there, looking disoriented and lost in thought. Rachel had never seen that expression on his face. He was actually worried about losing Carly. The woman mattered to him.
Amazing. Maybe she should have been more honest with Owen while they were married. Instead, she’d done her best to be understanding. The minute he’d started taking her for granted, she should have said something. But the few times she’d tried, Owen hadn’t understood or hadn’t thought it important. His dismissive attitude, as if her feelings were nowhere nearly as important to him as subatomic particles traveling faster than the speed of light at CERN, had really hurt. In the grand scheme of the universe, of course his work was important. But at the time, she’d wondered why she hadn’t mattered, too. He’d been far too interested in chasing what Einstein had never been able to prove. In fact, when she’d said she wanted a divorce, his long sigh of irritation—with nary a word of protest—told her they were never meant to be. If she’d faced that sooner, she could have saved herself a few years and a lot of heartache.
“You’ve gotten what you came here for, pal. Thanks for stopping by.” Decker stood and rounded the coffee table to stand over Owen expectantly.
“I . . .” He looked at Rachel. “That’s so much to contemplate. You’re talking about changing the way I do everything, the way I approach life. Sex is actually important to women?”
“Yes, Owen. I know it’s a lot, but—”
“Look, this girl is either important to you or she isn’t,” Decker cut in. “If she is and you want to keep her, then use your head. There’s a reason she sent you to talk to Rachel. Women don’t usually want their man talking to an ex unless they’re at the end of their rope. And when did you get the stupid-ass idea that sex wasn’t important to women?”
Owen frowned, gaping. “I know it’s important to most men, but . . . I assumed women were less interested in such things.”
“The amount of pleasure you give her is a direct statement about how important she is to you, ass-hat. If you can’t make the effort to make her feel good when she’s yielding her time and body to you, then how can she feel valued?” Decker shook his head. “Didn’t you ever learn to kiss and sweet-talk girls in high school out of their bras and into their panties?”
A red flush swept up Owen’s face. “No. I let beer in college do that for me.”
Which probably explained why he’d kept a few bottles of good wine in the house when they’d been married and given her a glass or two when he’d been “in the mood.”
“Well, now you know that females like conversation with their orgasms. They like to feel special.” Decker dragged Owen to his feet, and her ex stood as if in a daze. “Try that with Carly. Ask her what she likes and listen. Put a smile on her face. And fucking call next time you’re thinking of dropping by to see Rachel.”
He managed to scoot her ex out of the room, down the hall, and out the front door without a protest from Owen. The way Decker had handled her ex had been nothing short of brilliant.
The second Decker shut the door behind Owen, he locked it and flashed her a sharkish grin.
“Decker?” She backed away.
“Beautiful . . .” He urged her against the foyer wall, kissing her absolutely breathless. A girl could get used to this . . .
Too bad he wouldn’t be around.
Rachel broke the kiss. The thought that he would soon leave and she would probably never see him again bothered her way more than it should. It was a good idea to part ways soon, before she started losing her heart to Decker. Or maybe it was already too late?
“Do you want those pancakes now? I really do know how to make them. I don’t want to send you off hungry.” She tried to wink and tease and not let on that his imminent departure was breaking her heart more than it probably should.
She expected him to agree, maybe share a casual breakfast with her. Then she supposed he’d smile, offer some thanks, along with a kiss or two, then climb on that gleaming motorcycle of his and leave. The last thing Rachel had ever imagined was for his face to thunder over, for his blue eyes to penetrate her bravado, and for him to press every inch of his hard body into her possessively.
“If you want pancakes, fine. If you don’t want to send me away hungry, then let’s skip the kitchen and go back to bed. I’m famished for you.”
SEVEN
DECKER HELD RACHEL, NAKED AND WARM, CLOSE TO HIM IN postcoital bliss, and eyed Val meowing on the far side of the bed. No doubt, they were both hungry, but that wasn’t his biggest problem.
Fighting down a mild panic, he dropped a kiss on Rachel’s brow as she slept, then he covered her up. Away from the bed, he stepped into his jeans and tucked the gun into the small of his back before making his way to the kitchen. As he did, he jammed his hand in his pocket, searching for his phone. Val followed, and he kind of wanted to high-five the cat for hissing at Owen.