The Way Home (33 page)

On the afternoon of the first day, Meg made cookies, thick, soft sugary rounds that sparked memories of baking day back home, whether home was Texas or Maine or Georgia. The glum mood was somewhat lifted and the cookies vanished in record time. Max made a wistful comment about the doughnuts his mother had made when he was a boy and Meg promised that, if it was still raining the next day, she’d make doughnuts.

Word got out and it seemed as if half the city managed to cram itself into the tiny bungalow the next afternoon. Ty watched sourly as Meg put Joe to work patting out the soft dough on the table while she kept a careful eye on the kettle of oil she was heating on the stove. To Max was given the honor of cutting the first round with a glass and then carefully cutting the middle out with a thimble. After that, there was considerable jockeying to cut the doughnuts and several scorched fingers as the hot treats were pulled out of the sizzling oil and set to drain before being dipped in sugar.

She certainly looked happy enough. Not like someone who had any desire to change the status quo. Not like a woman who thought there was anything wrong with her marriage. There was a burst of laughter from the group huddled in the kitchen and Ty felt his mood sink still lower.

Someone shifted enough to give him a clear view of his wife. Her hair was caught back from her face by a pair of clips. Her cheeks were flushed from the heat generated by the stove, and she was smiling. He’d never seen her look happier. Never wanted anyone more in his life.

His gaze shifted to Max, who was standing next to her, his eyes on her face. Seeing his expression, Ty felt as if someone had just kicked him in the stomach. The boy was in love with her, he realized. The look in his eyes was nothing short of worship. And Meg? Did she feel the same way about him? If she did, Ty couldn’t see it. But then, he knew, better than most, just how good she was at concealing what she was thinking, what she was feeling. What if she’d transferred her feelings for him to Max? That wouldn’t be so hard to imagine. Max was closer to her age. He was a nice kid, clean cut, clean living. The perfect husband for a girl like Meg.

Except Meg already had a husband.

The strength of that thought startled Ty. Max reached out to brush a smudge of flour from Meg’s cheek and Ty found himself on his feet. He was halfway to the kitchen when Jack was suddenly in front of him.

“Talk to you a minute, Ty?”

“Not right now,” Ty said, starting around him. He wasn’t sure what he planned to do but he wanted Meg away from Max, away from the whole damned bunch of them.

“It’s important,” Jack said. He set one hand on Ty’s shoulder and steered him toward the French door that led out onto the tiny patio.

“It’s raining,” Ty protested, glancing over his shoulder to see what Meg was doing.

“There’s a roof.” Jack pushed open the door and all but shoved him out into the cool, damp air.

Since Jack was standing between him and the door, Ty pushed his hands in his pockets and frowned at his friend. “What’s so important?”

Jack reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, shaking one out before reaching for his lighter. “Never thought you were a dog in the manger, Ty.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Meg.” Jack lit the cigarette and then flipped the lighter shut and put it back in his pocket. “I’m talking about Meg. And Max.”

“What about them?” Ty snapped.

“He’s in love with her,” Jack said, as if there were nothing wrong with that.

“She’s my wife,” Ty said, feeling angry color run up under his collar.

“The way you treat her, no one would ever guess it,” Jack said bluntly. “You act like she’s your kid sister. You can’t blame someone for thinking that’s all she is to you. Can’t blame them for thinking the way might be open for somebody who felt a little stronger about her.”

“Well, it isn’t open. She’s my wife and she’s going to stay that way.”

“Then why don’t you treat her like she’s your wife?” Jack snapped, dropping his air of cool indifference.

“It’s nobody’s business how I treat her.” Ty moved restlessly, turning to frown down at the tangle of foliage on the hillside below the bungalow. “Besides, she’s too young. She’s not even eighteen yet.”

“Since when is eighteen the magic age of maturity? You and I were a hell of a lot less mature at twenty-four than she is at seventeen. And she’s damn well old enough to wonder why her husband is sleeping on the sofa.”

Ty spun to face Jack, his eyes wide with shock.

“She told you that?” He sounded as stunned as he felt.

“Hell no.” Jack tossed his half-smoked cigarette into the soggy grass next to the patio. “You just did,” he said wearily.

There was a long silence while the two men stared at each other.

“If we hadn’t been friends for so long, I think I’d feed you your teeth right about now,” Ty said slowly.

“If we hadn’t been friends for so long, I’d deserve it,” Jack responded evenly.

“Friendship doesn’t extend to interfering in my marriage, Jack.” There was a warning in Ty’s voice as well as in his words.

“You’re right. But since I’ve already stepped out of line, I’ll go one step further. That’s a damn fine girl in there, Ty. No matter what your reasons were for marrying her, you’re a fool if you let her go.”

“I have no intention of letting her go,” Ty said angrily.

“Does she know that?” Jack stopped abruptly and reached up to thrust his fingers through his hair. He shook his head. “Ah hell, it’s none of my business.”

“We agree on that.”

“Just forget I said anything,” Jack said. He turned away and pulled open the door, stepping back into the living room without another word.

Ty stayed where he was, ignoring the rain that blew in under the overhang. Obviously the builders had assumed that the bungalow’s occupants would be smart enough to stay inside when the weather was inclement.

He stared through the glass door at the group inside. Jack said something to Meg and then departed without so much as aglance in Ty’s direction. Ty watched him leave and then found his gaze drawn back to the gathering in the kitchen. Meg was smiling, seemingly unaware that her husband was standing out in the rain like an idiot. Max was standing as close to her as good manners allowed, which was considerably closer than Ty liked. He was watching her, his expression reminiscent of a hungry puppy’s.

But Ty didn’t feel the anger he had earlier. He knew Max well enough to know that he wouldn’t step out of line, no matter how strong his feelings for Meg were.

As he watched Meg with the group of men, what struck him was how comfortable they all were with her and she with them. They were laughing and talking, teasing each other like they were one big happy family. Ty felt like a kid with his nose pressed to the candy store window. He’d been that comfortable with her once. Not so long ago, either.

He wanted Meg but he didn’t just want to share a bed with her. Dammit, he missed her. He missed the friendship they’d had, missed the easy companionship. He wanted her to smile at him again without shadows in her eyes. He’d thought he was doing what was best for her in giving her time, keeping his distance. But what if Jack was right? Were the walls between them of his building? And did Meg want them tom down?

A trickle of water worked its way through a crack in the boards over his head and found a target in the back of his neck. The icy drop startled a curse out of Ty and he reached for the door. Maybe he’d spent enough time on the outside looking in.

CHAPTER 15

It was warm inside. Warm and welcoming. Ty hesitated a moment, oddly reluctant to approach the cozy little group that stood near the plate of cooling doughnuts. Watching them, he took a step toward the sofa, thinking maybe he needed more time to consider the idea that any lack in his marriage was of his own doing. But then he saw Max touch Meg’s arm to get her attention and he changed course abruptly.

“Any doughnuts left?” he asked.

“I think there’s one or two that don’t already have my name on it,” Joe said as he bit into a sugar-coated ring.

The group shifted to allow Ty to move to his wife’s side. “They smell terrific, Meg.” He set his arm casually around her shoulders, giving Max a friendly nod as he pulled her against his side.

“Thank you.” Meg’s response was a little breathless and Ty looked down at her, catching her surprised look. Surprise but not rejection, he decided, and kept his arm where it was as reached for a doughnut.

It was every bit as delicious as it looked, but Ty wouldn’t have cared if it had tasted like an old tire. He wasn’t as interested in food in the moment as he was in the feel of his wife against his side. He contributed his bit to the conversation, which picked up where it had left off when he joined them, but he was vividly aware of Meg.

The initial stiffiiess slowly eased from her and she relaxed in his hold, her body curving to his so that she was a soft weight along his side. She felt so right there that it was suddenly hard to remember why he’d been keeping his distance. As she relaxed, it seemed natural for his arm to slide downward, his hand settling in the gentle curve of her waist.

Ty could feel the warmth of her skin through the layers of fabric that separated them. The warm, brown smell of the doughnuts overlaid a fresh, clean scent that he finally realized must be Meg’s shampoo. Perhaps sensing his attention, she glanced up, her eyes questioning. Ty smiled at her. His fingers shifted, opening over the curve of her hip. Her breath caught a little at the casual intimacy. He saw a delicate wave of color fill her cheeks in the moment before she looked down, but she didn’t stiffen or move away.

Ty felt someone watching them and dragged his attention from the soft curve of Meg’s cheek. His eyes met Max’s for an instant before the other man’s gaze shifted to the blatantly possessive arm at Meg’s waist. After a moment, he lifted his eyes to Ty’s face again. Ty met his look calmly. There was no need to say anything. The way he held Meg said it all. She was his. And if anyone had thought otherwise, he needed to rethink.

Perhaps Jack was right, Ty admitted. If Max had any idea that the way might be clear with Meg, there was no one to blame but himself. He
had
been treating Meg like a sister, and it was understandable that someone might have gotten the wrong idea. He didn’t blame Max and wouldn’t embarrass him by saying anything. But Max must have read something in his eyes, something that told him that Ty recognized his feelings for Meg. The younger man flushed and looked away. With Meg pressed so snugly along his side, Ty found it in himself to sympathize.

He wasn’t surprised when, a few minutes later, Max commented that he ought to be going. Ty didn’t urge him to stay, and he was unreasonably pleased that Meg didn’t, either. One of the others said that he’d catch a ride back to the airfield with Max. After the two of them left, it wasn’t long before the others began to drift away with muttered comments about the rain maybe easing enough to let them get off the ground tomorrow. Still, it was past dark before Ty was finally alone with his wife.

He closed the door behind the last of his friends and turned to lean against it for a moment, his eyes seeking out Meg. She was in the kitchen, gathering up the coffee cups and plates and setting them in the sink. She was wearing a pink dress with a neat white collar and had a soft blue apron wrapped around her waist. Her cheeks were flushed and there were baby fine curls of warm gold laying in soft tendrils against her forehead. He’d never seen her look more beautiful and he’d never wanted anyone more.

Just how did a man go about seducing his wife?

Meg was conscious of Ty watching her, and she found her fingers trembling a little. She was careful not to look at him, not sure what she might see. For the past few weeks he’d barely looked at her and never touched her if he could avoid it. Yet tonight he’d put his arm around her, held her the way he might have if they’d really been married. And now — the way he was just standing there, looking at her …

“Here. Let me give you a hand with those.”

Ty’s voice came from right behind her, and Meg jumped and spun to face him. He was smiling at her, an open friendly smile, the kind of smile that had been all too rare since the wedding. Her fingers tightened over the cup she held until her knuckles ached.

“That’s okay. There’s not that much to do. And the kitchen is so small.”

If it occurred to Ty that, less than an hour ago, the kitchen had been big enough to hold five men as well as herself, he didn’t say as much. He nodded, still smiling.

“Okay. Why don’t I start a fire while you finish up in here?”

“A fire?”

“In the fireplace,” he said gently. “Maybe we can open that bottle of wine Billy gave us for a housewarming gift.”

“All right.” If he heard the hesitation in her response, he chose to ignore it. With another smile, he turned and went back into the living room.

Meg set down the cup she’d been clutching. For weeks they’d done their best to politely avoid each other, not an easy task in the small bungalow. Now it sounded as if Ty actually wanted her company. What on earth was going on?

She was no closer to an answer twenty minutes later. By the time she’d finished the dishes, Ty had a fire going in the stone-lined fireplace. He’d turned the radio to a music program, and the soft sounds of strings blended with the crackle of flames. He handed her a glass of wine and gestured casually to the sofa. Not feeling casual at all, she sat on the edge of the seat.