Page 11 of Where Secrets Lie

His gaze searched hers. “I love you too. I never stopped. It feels like there’s a ‘but’ in there somewhere.”

She shook her head. “No ‘but.’ I want us to be as solid as possible for our new beginning. What would you think about getting premarital counseling? I made plenty of mistakes the first time, and I don’t want to fail you again.”

“Babe, I failed you. We both know it was my fault.”

“The fault of a marriage’s failure is always on both sides. I want us to start again the right way with our marriage centering on the right things—love and faith. I never doubted you loved me and Ella, but life took us into uncharted waters. I should have told you the minute I saw you drifting deeper into your work and away from me and Ella. And after she died, I should have intervened when I saw the wine bottles piling up. And you should have talked to me about how you were feeling. If we makesure we know what to do next time, our marriage will start out stronger.”

He slipped his arm around her and leaned in close enough for her to catch the tantalizing scent of his skin mixed with soap. His lips brushed her ear. “Have I told you how beautiful you look this morning? I’d do anything for you. You know that.”

His reply bolstered her courage for the next step, and she leaned into his embrace. “How have you been feeling?”

He nuzzled her neck. “Fine.”

“I think you should have a checkup, just to make sure. Maybe a CT scan to make sure everything is okay.” He pulled away, and she felt him stiffen. “A concussion can cause memory issues.”

“This is about the wine bottle, isn’t it? You don’t think I picked up a stray empty bottle along the road and plunked it in my trash, then forgot. You think I bought it and drank until I passed out. I wouldn’t forget something like that, Savannah. I’d have a hangover, and I’d know.” His voice was tight, and he didn’t look at her.

She touched his arm and felt the tense muscles under his shirt. “I just want us to be honest and open with each other. I’m not going anywhere, Hez.”

He finally turned a furious gaze on her. “Do you think I’m drinking again, Savannah? Do you not believe me when I tell you someone put the bottle in my trash?”

She tried to cup his face with her hands, but he shook off her touch. “I don’t want to fight.”

“Neither do I, so I’d better leave.” He called a reluctant Cody to him and clipped on his leash.

She rose and took a step toward him. “Hez, don’t be mad.”

He didn’t answer, and she sensed his despair and hurt from the stiff way he walked toward his car. She’d handled this all wrong.

***

“Bye, Mom!” Simon called as he climbed into the cab of Will Dixon’s spotless silver pickup, decorated with TGU Gators stickers.

“Bye, Simon!” Jess called back. She watched from the pillared entrance of her house as they drove down the long curve of her driveway and disappeared around the corner. That was the first time he had called her “Mom” instead of “Mum.” His English accent was melting away faster than ice cream on the Fourth of July. Six months from now, he’d probably have an impeccable southern drawl. She chuckled at the thought.

Simon had made the change from an upper-crust Essex boarding school to an Alabama public school with surprising ease. Of course she’d planned on putting him in an Ivy League prep school, but he had been adamant about attending public school. She couldn’t argue with that really—the local schools had fine faculties thanks to TGU’s influence on the area.

Having Will as a tutor certainly helped. Simon’s only academic deficit was American history, a subject he easily could have learned on his own. Will was a good teacher, but he was an even better surrogate big brother. Simon idolized him, and the fact that Will was the starting quarterback for the Gators had given Simon instant social standing at school. It was a pity they’d be separated soon, when TGU imploded and Will was forced to transfer to another school.

Her watch buzzed against her wrist. Almost time for her call with Punisher and English Cream. She sighed and went back inside.

She did a quick sweep of her home office for bugs. She had no reason to suspect anyone was spying on her, but if she waited until she suspected something, it would probably be too late. Satisfied that the room was clean, she flicked on her computer. The gorgeous dog and grim death’s head appeared on her monitor.

English Cream started the conversation. “Greetings, all. I see deliveries have resumed and we’re even making a dent in our backlog. Nicely done.”

“Thanks.” Jess had put in a lot of late nights to make that happen. It was nice to have her work noticed. “I’m still short-staffed, but I can hold up my end.”

“And I’m holding up mine,” Punisher added. “The new overland route adds a day and some costs, but it works. What about the money angle?”

“The vehicle is almost finished,” English Cream said. “The funds are available for transfer. When will the debt consolidation be complete?”

Jess tapped her newly manicured nails on the desktop. She hadn’t expected English Cream to be ready this quickly. She had been so busy getting the deliveries back on schedule that she hadn’t made much progress on the university’s finances. “Not yet. I’m working on it.”

“Better work fast. Someone will be watching soon. You need to do better.” Punisher seized on her shortcomings, as always. Their relationship in real life at least was better, but it was his way of making sure she performed to his expectations.

He was right. Jess needed to get as much done as possible while TGU had no president or permanent provost. Once those positions were filled, her actions might be scrutinized. “Well, at least we don’t need to worry about the lawyer watching.”

Punisher gave a harsh laugh. “Heard about that. Guy can’t think about anything except that bottle.”

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