Speed Dating (19 page)

“Do you like horses, Kendall?”

“I don’t know a lot about them, but I think they’re beautiful.”

“You’ll love the baby,” Ashlee said. “We call him Beau. Off you both go, and then I can talk Dylan into being part of my fundraising.”

Harrison gazed steadily at Ashlee for a moment, and
Kendall felt her stomach knot. That woman was as subtle as a soap opera villainess. Then he turned to Kendall. “I’d be happy to show you if you’re interested.”

“Thank you,” she said.

Dylan sent her a quick glance of appeal, but she decided he was big enough to fight off a woman who probably weighed a hundred pounds soaking wet.

If he wanted to fight her off.

S
HE SET OFF
with Harrison down the sloping meadow toward the river.

“How do you like Wilkerton?”

“It’s very nice. Peaceful.”

He laughed shortly. “It wasn’t very peaceful around Dylan when he was young. He was always one crazy hell-raiser.”

“I can imagine.”

The sun warmed her face and the industrious bees sounded like soft snoring. He led her down a path to a dusty, old red truck. “Oh,” she said. “Can’t we walk?”

“If you’ve got all day. It’s pretty far. I use the truck most of the time.”

“All right,” she said and climbed in. They rode down a narrow gravel road that followed the river. Three big paddocks stood side by side and in the farthest one, a gorgeous black mare stood staring at them over the fence. Beside her stood a spindly-legged foal. “Oh, he’s gorgeous,” she said as they drew closer.

Harrison strode into an adjacent barn and emerged with a couple of apples. He let her feed the mare an apple while the foal nursed.

She enjoyed the feel of the sun on her face and the
smell of grass and horse. She tried not to think about what was going on on the veranda, but Harrison’s thoughts were clearly bent in the same direction.

“So, I hear you met Dylan’s parents.”

“Yes.” She kept staring ahead.

“He always lived for sports and he was crazy about engines. He was go-cart racing in grade school, and anybody could see he was good.”

She smiled, imagining the little boy Dylan would have been. “I can imagine.”

“Of course, his folks hated everything about it. They were always finding reasons to forbid him to go racing. If he didn’t have straight
A
s, then he couldn’t race until he did, stuff like that. It made him crazy and rebellious, and of course he got out of there the second he could.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

He stared up at the deep blue sky, shoved his hands into his pockets. “I think you’re a good person and can maybe help Dy. One day pretty soon, he’s going to need someone like you standing by him.”

A wave of sadness swamped her. “I’m leaving.”

“Does he know that?”

She nodded, suddenly unable to speak.

“When?”

“Two weeks.”

“Does he know you love him?”

“Yes.” She thought of her declaration last night and Dylan’s unsatisfactory response. “Yes, he knows.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.”

They turned and walked back to the truck.

“How can he be so blind?” Harrison suddenly exploded.

“How can she?”

“I don’t want to talk about Ashlee.”

She didn’t know what to say, so she kept her mouth shut and they drove back in silence. They parked the truck and returned to the house. The veranda was deserted, the cups and dessert cleared away.

“They’re probably in the conservatory,” Harrison said. “That’s where Ash spends most of her time. She loves her orchids.”

They entered the house and headed straight for the conservatory, where she stopped dead in the doorway.

If Kendall had wondered how she’d feel if Dylan ended up back in Ashlee’s arms, she now had her answer.

She felt rotten.

Kendall and Harrison had walked in on Ashlee and Dylan kissing. Dylan was sitting in one of the deep wicker chairs with Ashlee perched on his lap, leaning over and kissing him passionately. Her hands were in his hair and her body tilted into his.

Dylan wasn’t exactly throwing her to the ground. His hands were on her shoulders, not exactly yanking her in closer, but not throwing her off his lap, either.

Harrison cleared his throat in classic French farce fashion. Well, he was a character in a French farce—the outraged husband.

Ashlee jerked her head up and turned to face them. Her eyes were huge, her lips red and puffy. Dylan glanced straight at Kendall, but his expression was unreadable.

She doubted her expression was unreadable. She bet
she looked as miserable as she felt. Two weeks? He couldn’t wait two lousy weeks?

There was one of those awful pauses when no one knows what to do or say. Ashlee didn’t leap off Dylan’s lap and Dylan, after a quick glance at Kendall, sent Harrison a want-to-solve-this-in-the-back-alley? glance.

“Well,” said Harrison, walking slowly past Kendall and into the room. “I think this is what’s called a compromising situation.”

Ashlee’s eyes glittered like a shopoholic on Fifth Avenue. It seemed she wasn’t going to apologize or explain. It looked as though she was going to enjoy the show.

“I guess it is, at that,” Dylan drawled back.

Since Kendall wasn’t sure how she felt, apart from stunned that Dylan would do something so stupid, she had no urge to smooth over the awkward situation, which normally she’d be eager to do.

Maybe, just maybe, confrontation wasn’t always a bad thing. And, from the red-hot vibes singeing the air, it seemed there was about to be one.

“Ashlee,” Harrison said to his wife, in a remarkably calm tone, “would you like to step outside into the garden with me for a minute?”

The diminutive blonde seemed flummoxed that he spoke with so little drama. Her eyes darted to Kendall and then she rose off Dylan’s lap—and not a moment too soon, in Kendall’s opinion. She tossed her head in true spoiled-beauty style. “No,” she said. “I would not. You’ll only yell at me. And then you’ll do something awful like beat up Dylan.”

There was a derisive snort from the easy chair. “He can try.”

“Well, anyway,” Ashlee said, running a hand through her hair, “now that we’re all here, we might as well discuss this like adults.”

“Are you acting like an adult?” Harrison said to his wife. He sounded calm and more disappointed than irate. What was wrong with Ashlee that she couldn’t see how much this man loved her?

It was clear to Kendall that Harrison was not acting the way Ashlee had expected him to. She blushed and fiddled with her rings. “I have…feelings for Dylan.”

Dylan opened his mouth to speak, but Kendall shook her head at him. This scene, she felt certain, needed to be played out by Ashlee and Harrison.

Harrison walked closer to his wife, stopping about three feet away and sticking his hands into his pockets. “What I have to say to you, I’d have preferred to say in private. But if this is your choice, then maybe it’s best.”

She raised her eyes for a second and then dropped them back to her hands.

“I went into this marriage with a pretty good idea that you’d try to bail.” He sent her a rueful look. “I didn’t imagine it would be within the first few months, though.”

“I’m sorry, I never meant—”

“Yes. You did. Maybe not consciously, but you chose marriage to me as easily as you’d choose your fall wardrobe. And you figured you could change me as easily, too.”

Ashlee dropped her hands and stared at him. He had her full attention now.

“I’m telling you in front of God and Dylan and Kendall that this time, honey, you aren’t getting out.”

“What! What do you mean?”

“I’m not giving you a divorce.”

“But I love Dylan!” she cried.

“You don’t love anyone. I thought deep down you loved me, only you didn’t want to admit to yourself that you could ever be happy with a respectable, Republican-voting, stable man who wants a family. No emotional fireworks, no wild living.”

“I could never be the wife you want,” Ashlee said.

“Cut the drama. I’m offering you a chance to give it a try. I’m done chasing you and I’m done playing the fool. Your place is with me. You vowed before God and two hundred family and friends that you’d be my wife. I think all of us were thinking you could stick to your word for a little longer.”

“But my astrologer said my destiny was with a man from my past.”

“In the first place, I think astrology is hogwash. In the second, I
am
a man from your past.”

“But you don’t love me.” Her eyes were big and getting misty with emotion. Kendall wondered how she could keep up with the drama in her own life.

Harrison looked dumbfounded. “I married you.”

“But you don’t act like you love me. Dylan would never stand there talking at me if he’d caught me with another man.”

“I’d like to think I’m a little more evolved than Dylan,” he replied coolly. “No offense.”

“None taken,” said the man in the chair. Unlike
Kendall, whose stomach was in knots, Dylan seemed to be enjoying himself.

“Ashlee, this isn’t about me, or Dylan. It’s about you. Honey, I love you and I’m not going anywhere. Let me repeat myself, neither are you.”

“But you caught me in another man’s arms.”

“I caught you in Dylan’s arms and frankly, even if you’d been buck naked, we’d be having the same conversation.” He stepped forward and took her hands in his.

“You’re a drama princess. In training to be a drama queen. Frankly, I’m attracted to that in you. I can be a little analytical. I’m too serious. You add excitement to my life. But you, my darling, also need me.”

“I don’t,” she whispered.

“You’re scared. And when you’re scared you do crazy things to drive people away. I’ve been in love with you since high school. I’ve seen your pattern. What you really want is someone who will stick. I’m telling you right now, I’m that man. I don’t care what you do. Kiss the entire NASCAR roster, dance naked on the Internet. I’m not leaving you, and I’m not letting you leave me.”

Ashlee hiccupped on a sob. “Don’t you even care that I was kissing Dylan?”

“Of course I care. When we’re done here I’m taking you upstairs to wash your mouth out with soap.”

She backed swiftly away, pulling her hands back. “You can’t. You wouldn’t dare.”

“I can and I will. Me and Dylan beating on each other would give you a thrill. Having your mouth washed out with soap will be unpleasant for you and a lot more satisfying for me.”

“And you won’t get your ass kicked, either,” Dylan added helpfully.

“That’s right,” Harrison said with a gleam of humor. “I won’t get my ass kicked, either.”

“Why couldn’t you just spank me like any normal man?”

“I know you. You’d like it too much.”

For the first time since she’d known her, Kendall saw Ashlee look at her new husband with the same kind of expression she usually sent Dylan. “You’d do that?”

“I’m going to. I think you’ve been a spoiled brat for too long. I love you, and I guess maybe the only way you’ll believe that is if I give you some of the tough love you should have had years ago.”

“Dylan?” she shrieked, backing away. “You’re not going to let my husband brutalize me—” she glanced furtively their way “—are you?”

“I do believe I am.” Dylan rose, walked toward Harrison and held out a hand. “I think maybe I was wrong about you,” he said.

They shook hands. Harrison said, “I appreciate that. Now I’m afraid I’m going to throw you out so I can deal with my wife.”

Kendall was a feminist, of course. But she didn’t stay to help fight off the advances of the brute husband even when Ashlee begged her to. If ever anyone had had it coming, this woman had.

“Kendall, you can’t leave me. You’re a woman. You’ve got to help me.”

“Ashlee,” Kendall said, feeling better than she’d felt all day, “I’ve got a mouth right here beside me that also needs washing out with soap.”

She glanced at Dylan long enough to see a calculating expression cross his face. He might as well have said, “You and which army?” But she’d figure something out.

“Okay, then, bye,” Harrison said, looking determined. He didn’t call the housekeeper; he escorted them to the door himself, with such haste Kendall barely had time to turn and call through the doorway of the conservatory, “Thank you for lunch,” before she was all but jogging down the marble halls toward the front door. Kendall didn’t fool herself into thinking that Harrison had better manners than his wife. She knew he wanted to make sure they were off his property and that he had absolute privacy.

“W
ELL
,” D
YLAN SAID
once they’d returned to his house and as they started up the path to the kitchen door, “that was inter—”

He never got the rest of the word out. He gave a grunt as she launched herself at him, catching him with a headbutt to the stomach. Of course, if he’d seen her coming he’d have fought her off, but she caught him by surprise and she knocked him off balance. He tripped and she followed, shoving at him until they both fell in the dirt.

“What are you doing?”

She lay sprawled on top of him. “How could you be so stupid?” she shrieked.

“I couldn’t stop her.”

“Oh, right. Because she’s so much bigger and stronger than you are? What did she do? Hold you down?” She was yelling right into his face and it felt good. Great, in fact. She wasn’t a confrontational person, or a violent
one, but something red-hot had snapped inside her and needed venting. She hauled back and whacked him in the chest with her fist. Then she did it again.