Playing All the Angles (20 page)

“That’s not helping.”

He thumped his knuckles against the table. “But you considered it for a second, didn’t you?”

“No,” she said firmly, though the corners of her mouth twitched.

“Uh-huh.”

She took a drink of her coffee to hide her amusement and then cleared her throat. “Are you going to Eve’s party?”

“Wouldn’t miss it. I suspect she throws the best parties, too. Besides, I honestly want to see her friends. I never really believed she had any. I’ve got to get a look at
the
Marcus Rode and the husband. Have you seen him at all?”

“Tad? No, but I spoke with him on the phone very briefly. He’s got a nice voice.”

“I wonder if this is going to be one of those beauty and the beast arrangements. Her married to some short, portly, bald thing.”

“I don’t think so. She told me he was gorgeous when she first described him. I can’t see Eve with anyone but a model type. Not for keeps anyway.”

“Likely, but wouldn’t it just be something if he wasn’t?”

“Alora would think Eve was mocking her if he was as unattractive as Doyle.”

“Alora’s going to think she’s being mocked if Eve’s married to Jesus Christ himself. Although…” Patrick was thoughtful. “That would be a clever one to pull off. Is Dominic going? Or is he bothered about her getting married?”

“Ugh. Who knows. You’d have to ask Lara Croft. He’s certainly not talking to me about it.”

“Is he still loafing about?”

“Not so much this week. He talked to his club contacts, and he’s started training again.”

“For what? Racing?”

“Yeah.”

“I thought he’d retired.”

“He did. But I don’t think either of us realized how much he was going to miss it, and I really do feel terrible for having forced his hand to quit.”

“How do you feel about him racing again?”

“It was my idea. I want him to be happy. It’s what he loves, and it beats having him moping around the house, waiting for me to get pregnant.”

Patrick pressed his lips together and nodded. “Any chance of that?”

Isabelle looked up at him and gave a small shake of her head. “I started taking my pills again. I’m not ready to have a baby yet.”

“Does he know?”

“No, and I’m not going to tell him just now. We’re finally getting past the row we had a few weeks ago. I don’t want another one,” she said, taking another sip of her coffee. “Is that terrible of me?”

“You know your relationship better than I do, Issie. If the time’s not right, then you’ll tell him when it is.”

She sighed. “He doesn’t seem interested either way. I don’t think he’s really in any hurry to have a baby, either.”

Patrick could only nod before his pager beeped. “Oh, that’s me. Break’s over,” he said, standing up. “I’m glad you came, Isabelle. I’ll see you on Saturday.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek again, then hurried back to work.

Isabelle took the long way home, stopping at the chemist’s to pick up a few things, so that if Dominic had heard her say she was running to the shops, he wouldn’t wonder. She felt a thread of guilt, even though the time spent with Patrick was innocent. They were friends. Good friends. They always had been, ever since they were little. He was nearly two years older than her, but that had never seemed an impossible difference. They’d grown together, easing into a romantic relationship when she was fifteen and he was almost seventeen. They just fit together.

Dominic was kick-starting his bike when she walked up on their street, but he geared down at the sight of her. “Hey.” He flipped up his visor. “I’m going to go meet Sean and David and do a few laps around the track. Probably not home till late. You get everything you needed?”

She nodded, letting him pull her in for a kiss. “Have fun. Tell the guys I said hello.”

“Will do.” He gave a thumbs-up.

“Does ‘not home till late’ mean before or after dinner?”

“After,” he said. “Late. Dark out. We’ll probably hit the pub on the way home.”

“So don’t wait up?”

“Nope.” He kissed her again. “Call up Jeanne and have a girl’s night. You haven’t done that in a long time.”

“Hmm. Maybe I will,” she said, hefting the plastic sacks and stepping back so he could go.

He flipped his visor down and revved the engine, giving her a wave as he headed off. She watched him go, then continued into the house, going upstairs to put away the things she’d bought. She supposed she should be glad he was getting out and actually doing something before holding down a stool at the pub, but it rankled that he was leaving her on her own. She sighed, wondering if she was just trying to find things to pick at, give herself excuses for thinking about Patrick and what might have been.

The next few nights were the same, though. He left the house around three, then returned after ten, smiling and happy but smelling of gasoline, sweat, beer, and cigarettes. The night before their party, she met him at the door, but backed away from the pub fumes rising off him.

“You are naff.” She shook her head.

“But I’m getting fit again.” He modeled his waistline for her. It was nice, as always.

“You know,” she heard herself saying, “smoking and drinking are bad for your sperm count.”

“We haven’t had sex in days. I can spare a few,” he said, pulling his jacket off and hanging it on the peg by the door.

“Is that a complaint?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Well, you’ve hardly been offering, have you?”

“You’ve hardly been home,” she said darkly. “Or sober.”

“I haven’t been drunk. I’m not drunk now.”

“You’re not sober, either.”

Dominic tossed his helmet aside. “What do you want, Isabelle? First I have to quit racing. Then you don’t like me being home. Now you don’t want me doing my job again? If I’m going to get back into condition, it’s hours of work a day. And I need to unwind before I come home.”

“I never said I didn’t like you being at home. You were miserable,” she said. “And I’m glad you’re back into racing. I’m not the one who made a crack about us not having sex.”

He shrugged at her and walked by, heading for the shower.

“Are you unhappy?” she asked incredulously. “Is that what this is about?”

“I’m fine,” he grunted, still moving ahead. “I’m just tired and I need a shower. And frankly, I’m not looking forward to four hours with your family tomorrow night.”

“It’s our wedding reception,” she said, following him. “And it’s not just my family. Your family and our friends will be there too.”

“Friends like your ex-fiancé?” he asked sourly.

“I—”

“Yeah,” he snorted. “Really looking forward to that.”

“How dare you even bring that up! After you and Eve!”

“Yeah, throw it back on me.”

She gaped at him. “What is the matter with you? Where is all this coming from?”

“You’re the one who met me at the door, bitching about my sperm count.”

“You are unbelievable.” She shook her head, turning away. “Fine. Just go take a shower.”

Chapter 13

I
SABELLE
H
AD
A C
HOICE
T
O
M
AKE
, and she sat in her car for a very long time, pulled off on the side of the road. If she kept straight ahead, she’d be on her way to Eve’s. If she turned left, she’d be on her way to Patrick’s hospital. She knew his shifts by now, and he would be there. He’d meet her in the caf. He would buy her a coffee and listen. And he would smile, and his warm brown eyes would make her feel like she was the most important woman in the world. Something Dominic should have been doing.

It would serve him right,
she told herself. If she went to see Patrick, it would serve him right. It would also prove him right, and at the moment, that was the last thing she wanted.

In just under an hour, she was at Eve’s door, knocking, thinking she should have called first, but she was halfway there before she realized she’d left her mobile at home. She watched the peephole darken and an eye blink, and when the door opened, it was a tousled young man standing there, shirtless and yawning, rubbing a hand through his thick, dark hair. “Yes?”

“Tad?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Isabelle. Eve’s sister.”

“Oh!” His face lit with recognition, and he laughed. “Come on in.” He called Eve’s name, then, “Hey, Red! Your sister is here.”

Isabelle felt herself warm to the nickname, and then she clapped both hands over her mouth when a very pregnant Eve started her way down the stairs, muttering, “I swear to fucking God I’m moving the bed down here. Those God damned stairs are going to be the end of me! Isabelle, what are you doing here?”

“I—I’m sorry it’s late,” she said quickly. “I should have called, but I left my mobile at home. I just needed to talk.”

“What did Dominic do now?” Eve asked as Tad closed the door behind Isabelle.

She shook her head in response and started crying. “Everything’s a mess!”

“I’ll be upstairs,” Tad offered, and he slipped away.

Eve pulled Isabelle over to the sofa and held her as best she could, patting her back while her younger sister sobbed out her story. When Isabelle had collected herself, Eve kissed her forehead and said, “He’s flirting or worse, Isabelle. You know my opinion of him isn’t too high. I would think he’s got a guilty conscience, so he’s going to pick a fight with you to feel justified. It’s very male. Very normal. See what you missed only dating Patrick before?”

“If I’d known this was what marriage would be like, I wouldn’t have eloped,” she said miserably. “Ever since the day of Alora’s shower, we’ve been at odds with each other. Even after we made up from the fight about his relationship with you.” She sniffed. “I thought getting back into racing would make him happy.”

Eve bit her lips together and shook her head. “I am the type to say ‘told you so.’ And I told you so.”

Isabelle choked out a laugh. “Shut it!”

“I did. Baby sis, he’s not for you. I mean, I’ve waffled back and forth about it myself, but look at you, all misery and tears! He is not the man for you. I cannot say that enough times. Dominic’s not a bad guy, but he’s not cut out for a conventional marriage. He’s certainly not cut out for marriage to you.”

“You keep saying that.” She sighed. “But things were so good between us before now. I don’t understand what’s changed. He doesn’t even want to go to our wedding reception.”

“So, tell him to stay home. You go and keep all the gifts for yourself. Plus, Patrick will be there, so you’ll have someone to dance with.”

“Be serious,” Isabelle said, blushing furiously at the suggestion.

“I am. God, Issie, you have no idea how serious I am. Look, things were good between you two because the game wasn’t over. Dominic’s got this motto: The thrill of the kill is nothing compared to the challenge of the chase. He’s got you now. You’re done. It’s done. You’re the wife. The old ball and chain. That’s it. You are the symbolic loss of his freedom, and that’s going to eat at him until he can’t stand himself. But he’s not going to just admit that and go on. And understand, I really believe he loves you as much as Dominic can love anyone, but he’ll make you fight with him just so he’ll have something to chase down again. This is your married life with him, Issie. He is always going to pick a fight so that you’ll run away so he’ll have a new challenge.”

“So, he’s bored with me?”

“He’s bored with the everyday married life.”

“We haven’t even been married that long!”

“But the race is run. I’m telling you, he stirred all that up with you, knowing that you’d get mad and probably leave. Now he has to work to bring you back around. The harder you resist, the more he’ll like it.” She laughed and shook her head. “Listen to me. A few months of therapy, and I think I’m the love expert. Clearly, I’m not. I’m just saying that’s how it seems to work with him.”

“That’s insane.”

“It’s not nice to say ‘insane’ to people who are in therapy.”

Isabelle ignored the jest. “Why did you date him?”

“I didn’t. I just shagged him. That’s the best part of him, if you ask me.”

“Eve!”

“Well…”

“Why were you with him?”

Eve considered that a moment and then shrugged. “It was entirely chemical. Animal and chemical. Strictly a physical attraction that I can’t even explain. There were no strings, no responsibilities, and no chance of him making demands. I was with him because when I was with him, I didn’t have to think. And he was with me for many of the same reasons. But I was also a challenge he could never overcome, and that kept him interested.”

Isabelle sighed, looking down at her hands. “It’s never been like that for us.”

“You’re a different person, sweetie. And you love each other. It’s not just a casual thing.”

“I’m starting to wonder,” she said, raising her eyes to meet Eve’s, “if I love him as much as I thought I did.”