Beauty from Love
Page 64
“Should I be scared about what you’re doing?”
“I have to ask something of you. I hope it’s a one-time request.” I see the confusion on her face. “Sometimes knowing the truth isn’t what’s best for you—and this is one of those times—so I need a no questions asked from you.”
“A what?”
“A no questions asked. It’s an understanding between two people when one agrees to go along with the other and not ask for explanations or details.”
She’s pissed. “This isn’t the equivalent of you calling for a change of underwear because you were plastered and pissed yourself at a frat party.” She covers her mouth and then removes it. “You’re doing this so I can’t be implicated in something.”
She’s reading too much into this. “We’re done talking about it.”
“What are you planning?”
I laugh because I can see she’s going to continue to ask questions. “You clearly don’t understand the gist behind no questions asked.”
“This isn’t funny.”
“You’re absolutely right. There’s not one damn thing that’s funny about Blake getting away with what he did to my wife, and that’s why I’m going to rectify the situation.” I’ve said more than I meant to so I change the subject because I’m not discussing it further. “What’s for dinner?”
She looks at me, as if in disbelief, before finally answering, “Chicken parmigiana over linguine.”
“Perfect. I haven’t had a good chicken parma in ages.”
I go into the cellar to choose a wine for dinner and linger because I need a minute away from her to get my head straight. She probably thinks I’m going to do something terrible. Truth is, I don’t have a plan yet. Jim has uncovered some terrible things about Blake and I’m not sure what I plan to do with the information.
I want to kill him. My innate response as L’s husband is to protect her and avenge any wrong against her, but the law doesn’t see it that way. The American justice system makes it very easy for people like Blake to get away with terrible things so they may go on to do it again, which seems to be a pattern for him. L isn’t the first woman he’s attacked; she’s just the first to come forward.
L has plated our dinner and is sitting at the table, her hands resting in her lap, waiting for me to join her. I open the wine and pour a generous glassful before I sit in my usual place. I take a big drink as she pushes her pasta around on her plate.
She’s upset with me, maybe even fearful about what I’m going to do, but I don’t want this ruining our evening. I make an attempt at normal conversation—something that might bring a smile to her face. “Will you tell me the names you’re thinking about for the baby?”
“Really? You’re going to bring up baby names after the conversation we just had?”
We’re not discussing Blake Phillips any further. “I like James.”
She sighs and doesn’t answer but after a moment she takes the bait. I knew she couldn’t resist the baby-name talk. “I thought you were convinced it was a girl.”
“I am but I really think I like James for my girl. Thoughts?”
“I don’t know. I gotta think about that one since it wasn’t on my radar at all.”
I’m not sure she likes it. “What is on your radar?”
“I’ve been kicking around Maggie, short for Margaret.”
I’m surprised. “You’d want to name our daughter after my mum?”
“Yeah. I love Margaret and it would be an honor for our daughter to be named after such a strong, loving woman.”
“What about Maggie James?” Hmm … it sounds like a southern Yank name. I love it.
She looks at me and smiles, a sign she may be forgetting our earlier strife. “Maggie James McLachlan.” She says it aloud, testing it on her own tongue. “I think I love it, but I want to use it as a double name. Not just Maggie or just James.”
Just like that? We go with the first name we discuss? I thought there would be more debate to it than that. “I’m fine with that.”
“You’ll call her MJ, won’t you?”
“My girls, L and MJ … yeah, I probably will. What about the boy name you’ve been wasting your time thinking about?”
“I want Henry in it—for obvious reasons—but now you have me thinking James Henry. What do you think?”
“That it doesn’t matter because we’re having a little girl and her name is Maggie James.”
L is tossing and turning in the bed, almost constantly. I don’t know if it’s because of discomfort or if she’s thinking of our no questions asked discussion. If it’s the latter, I don’t want her affected like this because it’s not good for her or the baby.
Her back is to me so I scoot close behind her and put my arms around her stomach. “You’re restless, love. What’s wrong?”
“You know what’s wrong.”
I was afraid she would say that. “What can I do to put you at ease?”
“Tell me you aren’t going to do something crazy.”
“I’m not going to do anything crazy.”
She rolls over so we’re facing one another. “Are you saying that because it’s what I want to hear?”
“No.” Maybe. I’m not sure yet.
“We have a baby on the way and I can’t afford to lose you because you’re looking to settle a score with Blake. Yes, he attacked me and deserves to be punished for that, but not at the expense of me losing my husband because you took matters into your own hands.”
I don’t think it’s possible to make her understand the way I feel. “I’m your husband. Your safety falls on my shoulders and I didn’t protect you from him, so I have this intense need inside me to make him sorry for what he did to you.”
“I want him to be punished too, but I’m the one who will suffer if you break the law and get caught.”
That isn’t going to happen. “I’m not going to get into any kind of trouble.”
“Swear to me.”
“I swear.” I want to get her mind off this. “Please try to get some rest. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day for you. What time do you have to be at the rehearsal?”
“Six.”
I should bring up tomorrow night. “You aren’t taking Addison out on the town for her last night as an unattached woman?”
“I have to ask something of you. I hope it’s a one-time request.” I see the confusion on her face. “Sometimes knowing the truth isn’t what’s best for you—and this is one of those times—so I need a no questions asked from you.”
“A what?”
“A no questions asked. It’s an understanding between two people when one agrees to go along with the other and not ask for explanations or details.”
She’s pissed. “This isn’t the equivalent of you calling for a change of underwear because you were plastered and pissed yourself at a frat party.” She covers her mouth and then removes it. “You’re doing this so I can’t be implicated in something.”
She’s reading too much into this. “We’re done talking about it.”
“What are you planning?”
I laugh because I can see she’s going to continue to ask questions. “You clearly don’t understand the gist behind no questions asked.”
“This isn’t funny.”
“You’re absolutely right. There’s not one damn thing that’s funny about Blake getting away with what he did to my wife, and that’s why I’m going to rectify the situation.” I’ve said more than I meant to so I change the subject because I’m not discussing it further. “What’s for dinner?”
She looks at me, as if in disbelief, before finally answering, “Chicken parmigiana over linguine.”
“Perfect. I haven’t had a good chicken parma in ages.”
I go into the cellar to choose a wine for dinner and linger because I need a minute away from her to get my head straight. She probably thinks I’m going to do something terrible. Truth is, I don’t have a plan yet. Jim has uncovered some terrible things about Blake and I’m not sure what I plan to do with the information.
I want to kill him. My innate response as L’s husband is to protect her and avenge any wrong against her, but the law doesn’t see it that way. The American justice system makes it very easy for people like Blake to get away with terrible things so they may go on to do it again, which seems to be a pattern for him. L isn’t the first woman he’s attacked; she’s just the first to come forward.
L has plated our dinner and is sitting at the table, her hands resting in her lap, waiting for me to join her. I open the wine and pour a generous glassful before I sit in my usual place. I take a big drink as she pushes her pasta around on her plate.
She’s upset with me, maybe even fearful about what I’m going to do, but I don’t want this ruining our evening. I make an attempt at normal conversation—something that might bring a smile to her face. “Will you tell me the names you’re thinking about for the baby?”
“Really? You’re going to bring up baby names after the conversation we just had?”
We’re not discussing Blake Phillips any further. “I like James.”
She sighs and doesn’t answer but after a moment she takes the bait. I knew she couldn’t resist the baby-name talk. “I thought you were convinced it was a girl.”
“I am but I really think I like James for my girl. Thoughts?”
“I don’t know. I gotta think about that one since it wasn’t on my radar at all.”
I’m not sure she likes it. “What is on your radar?”
“I’ve been kicking around Maggie, short for Margaret.”
I’m surprised. “You’d want to name our daughter after my mum?”
“Yeah. I love Margaret and it would be an honor for our daughter to be named after such a strong, loving woman.”
“What about Maggie James?” Hmm … it sounds like a southern Yank name. I love it.
She looks at me and smiles, a sign she may be forgetting our earlier strife. “Maggie James McLachlan.” She says it aloud, testing it on her own tongue. “I think I love it, but I want to use it as a double name. Not just Maggie or just James.”
Just like that? We go with the first name we discuss? I thought there would be more debate to it than that. “I’m fine with that.”
“You’ll call her MJ, won’t you?”
“My girls, L and MJ … yeah, I probably will. What about the boy name you’ve been wasting your time thinking about?”
“I want Henry in it—for obvious reasons—but now you have me thinking James Henry. What do you think?”
“That it doesn’t matter because we’re having a little girl and her name is Maggie James.”
L is tossing and turning in the bed, almost constantly. I don’t know if it’s because of discomfort or if she’s thinking of our no questions asked discussion. If it’s the latter, I don’t want her affected like this because it’s not good for her or the baby.
Her back is to me so I scoot close behind her and put my arms around her stomach. “You’re restless, love. What’s wrong?”
“You know what’s wrong.”
I was afraid she would say that. “What can I do to put you at ease?”
“Tell me you aren’t going to do something crazy.”
“I’m not going to do anything crazy.”
She rolls over so we’re facing one another. “Are you saying that because it’s what I want to hear?”
“No.” Maybe. I’m not sure yet.
“We have a baby on the way and I can’t afford to lose you because you’re looking to settle a score with Blake. Yes, he attacked me and deserves to be punished for that, but not at the expense of me losing my husband because you took matters into your own hands.”
I don’t think it’s possible to make her understand the way I feel. “I’m your husband. Your safety falls on my shoulders and I didn’t protect you from him, so I have this intense need inside me to make him sorry for what he did to you.”
“I want him to be punished too, but I’m the one who will suffer if you break the law and get caught.”
That isn’t going to happen. “I’m not going to get into any kind of trouble.”
“Swear to me.”
“I swear.” I want to get her mind off this. “Please try to get some rest. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day for you. What time do you have to be at the rehearsal?”
“Six.”
I should bring up tomorrow night. “You aren’t taking Addison out on the town for her last night as an unattached woman?”
