Free Still Mr. And Mrs. by Patricia Olney Page B

so much already. She wasn’t willing to lose anymore. Was she strong enough to fight for them both?

    The next evening, Rebecca and Jonathan were in the kitchen making a colossal sundae—and a big mess.
    “Here are some cherries, Jonathan.” Rebecca shut the refrigerator door.
    “Excellent, my dear, excellent.”
    She opened the jar and plopped a couple of red cherries on top of the chocolate-covered ice cream already decorated with whipped cream and chopped nuts.
    Rebecca climbed on top of a bar stool and picked up her spoon.
    “This is very good.” Jonathan glanced up at her. “I like your style, Rebecca.”
    She smiled. “Thank you.”
    “Your husband, he is more …”
    “Conservative?” Rebecca finished for him.
    Jonathan scooped a large bite into his mouth and nodded. “He worries too much.”
    “I know.”
    “I see a lot of myself in Gabe. Like him, I was intent on being the best, and working hard.
    “I didn’t realize how unbalanced my life was until my wife made me choose.” He rested thebowl on his lap. “Arlene finally told me it was her and our children or the business.”
    “What happened?”
    “My priorities changed. It was either that or my home address, according to Arlene.”
    Rebecca laughed. “You tell wonderful stories, Jonathan.”
    “I hope to make a point here. I was stubborn. Just like your husband. But Arlene was more so and let me know it.”
    “Reb?” Gabe said from the doorway. “Oh, I didn’t know you had company.” He walked in, looking at the mess spread across the kitchen.
    Jonathan stood and put his half-eaten ice cream on the counter. “This was delicious. But I must watch my weight. Thank you, Rebecca.” He gave her hand a slight squeeze. “Until tomorrow night. I’m looking forward to your party.”
    Rebecca sighed as she watched Jonathan leave.
    “What was that all about?” Gabe asked.
    “Actually, we were talking about you.” She took a bite of ice cream, slowly licking the spoon.
    “What did he tell you?” His pupils dilated, turning his eyes an even darker shade of brown.
    “That you work too hard. Just like he did until his wife told him enough was enough.” Sheladled another spoonful of whipped foam and strawberry ice cream. “Want some?”
    When he shook his head, she took a bite. He looked so handsome, it made her chest hurt. She popped a cherry into her mouth and chewed, knowing that somehow, somewhere she’d lost her will to resist him. And she didn’t know what to do.
    Forcing her heart and mind away from him, she went to the kitchen sink intent on cleaning up the mess scattered across the counter.
    “Here,” he said, his voice low as he took in a shaky breath. “Let me help.”
    She turned abruptly and ran directly into him. Gabe stumbled backward against the butcher-block island, knocking over two bar stools. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her hard against his hips. Rebecca let out a gasp as a third chair toppled over with a bang.
    “That’s not necessary,” she said softly, her gaze taking in the open V of his cream-colored shirt, the warmth of his eyes. “We made the mess. I can clean it up real fast.”
    He made no effort to hide his obvious hunger for her, and in that instant, she knew Gabe was changing, softening.
    Glancing down, she noticed a button of hisshirt was caught in her cotton sweater. She grabbed at the front of her sweater to stop him. “Don’t move, you’ll tear your—”
    The sharp sound of ripping material filled the air.
    She glanced down at his torn shirt. “Looks like we’ve had a little accident.”
    “Nothing is little where you’re concerned.”
    Unable to help herself, she ran her palms over the smooth, hard curves of his muscled chest to where the button of his shirt was connected with her sweater. “Now hold still.” She pulled the button free. “I want to untangle us.”
    “I don’t.” His voice was rough and deep.
    Placing his large hands on her face, he tipped her chin up