Page 23 of Finding Amanda

"Do you, Daddy? Can you please stay?" Madi asked.

He knew the answer he was supposed to give, though it killed him to do it. "I have to go, peanut, but I'll see you tomorrow."

"You have to leave now?" Sophie whined.

"Actually I'd like to talk to your mom for a few minutes. Can you two go up and finishAladdin?"

Reminding them of the movie did the trick, and Sophie and Madi ran past him and up the stairs. He watched until they disappeared around the corner before turning to his wife.

She sat up straight, nervous.

He closed the distance between them, pulled her from the sofa, and hugged her tight. "Thank God you're home."

Amanda's arms dangled against her sides. Before he was ready, she angled away.

He let her go, holding onto her upper arms to keep her from sitting. He searched her face, her slender frame for some sign of the trauma she'd faced in seeing Sheppard again. But the scars wouldn't be visible. "Are you okay?"

She squirmed out of his grip and resumed her seat on the sofa. "I'm fine."

He sat catty-corner to her on the sectional. "I was worried about you."

"I shouldn't have told you?—"

"Of course you should've told me. Did you see him again?"

”Nope. No sign of him all weekend."

"Thank God."

She sat back and almost smiled.

He'd expected her to arrive home in one of her many sweat suits. She had one for every day of the week in every season, and what better outfit to wear on a long drive? But Amanda was dressed in a fitted pair of jeans with a pretty, yellow, button-down blouse, a halo of pink lipstick around her full lips. Lipstick she hadn't applied recently—hadn't applied for him.

He swallowed, tried to push down the monster growling in his chest. "So, did you sleep in this morning? I bet after running into Sheppard, you didn't sleep well."

"I woke up early, actually."

"Oh. Was there a lot of traffic?"

She scanned the room. "This place really looks great. Did you wash the windows?"

He followed her gaze. The windows were spotless. "Uh-huh.So . . . traffic?"

"Not much after I got out of the city. A little around Bridgeport."

He nodded slowly. He should let it go, knew this would only lead to trouble, but his curiosity was killing him. No, not curiosity. Jealousy. "You're later than I expected."

She turned away from the windows and studied him. "Did you have plans today? I didn't realize I had a time limit."

He tried to ignore her sarcasm with a smile. "No plans. I was just worried about you. You could've called."

The clock on the far wall ticked. Voices drifted down the stairs from the movie playing in the bedroom. She said nothing.

"Did you . . . do something this morning?"

She crossed her arms. "Um, I drove home."

"I just wondered why you're so dressed up for a five-hour drive."

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