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Had—
Lights in his driveway.
Relief oozing out of his every pore.
He plunked the beer on his coffee table, hopped to his feet, and moved to the door, opening it even as she was just climbing out of her car.
“Hey, baby,” he began.
“Stop.”
One harsh word.
And with it, everything changed.
Thirty-Four
Teresa
She’d made it to the porch.
Was struggling for calm.
But she didn’t think she managed it, not when she bit out, “When were you going to tell me?”
For a second, she felt guilty.
Maybe she should slow down, take a beat, and—
But then his face changed.
He was hiding something.
And that momentary thought of slowing down and taking a beat and starting from the beginning disappeared.
“You weren’t, were you?”
“Teresa, baby,” he said, rubbing a hand across his forehead. “Come into the house and let’s talk about what’s bothering you?”
“You weren’t,” she said again.
Some emotion—guilt? excitement? worry?—sliding across his face. “Of course, I was going to tell you. I just…”
“You just…?” She waved a hand, wanting him to go on.
“Let’s go in the house.” He stepped closer.
She stepped back.
“It’s getting late.” He shifted toward her. “Come inside, let’s talk about—”
“The fact that you’re lying to me?”
“Okay—” He took her arm, tugged just hard enough to piss her off. She wasn’t a fucking dog to be led around, and his next words sent her anger even higher. “Just calm down, think, andstopfor a second.”
Calm. Down.
Think.
