Page 65 of Silver Lining
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"I loved listening to Dave strum his guitar. And Gilly plays the piano without even looking at the sheets of music!"
Max nodded and glanced at the main house as he drove past on the way home. The front of the house was dark. As the window of Wally and Philadelphia 's room opened to the back, he couldn't tell if their lamps were lit or if they were still awake.
"It was a fine evening," Louise added cheerfully, pressing her thigh and leg against his. The temperature hovered around freezing, so the sensible course was to share each other's warmth. Nevertheless, he was aware of her closeness and her scent. Sunshine had been right that she smelled like apple cider.
"You didn't speak three words until we reached Gilly and Dave's place." He guessed he knew why.
"I didn't have anything to say." She kept her gaze fixed on the inky road ahead.
By now he should have known she wouldn't complain, but he'd thought she might make a reference to Philadelphia 's appalling rudeness. But she hadn't, not during the drive to Gilly and Dave's, nor during the return trip. Now he understood that she wouldn't mention Philadelphia throughout the remaining three miles to their house.
All week he had dreaded seeing Philadelphia . He kept thinking if things had gone differently, they would have been in Denver now on their wedding trip. But any thoughts of what might have been had evaporated when he watched her protect her skirts by pushing Sunshine away. Never would he have guessed that she would value the drape of her skirts more than a child's embrace.
Moreover, he would have sworn Philadelphia incapable of delivering scathing remarks and then smiling when she discovered the object of her scorn, Louise, had overheard her comments. Worse, she had tossed him a quick triumphant glance as if they were conspirators and she expected him to applaud.
Granted, Philadelphia had no reason to exude warmth and kindness toward Louise. But Max would have wagered everything he owned that Philadelphia Houser would never ostracize a person seated at the same table. She wouldn't knowingly cause the rest of the dinner company a moment's discomfort. He had expected chilly politeness but certainly politeness. He had not expected pointed rudeness or the slashing remarks aimed at Louise. Definitely he had not anticipated that he would gaze down the dinner table at the woman he would have married and feel defensive and angry.
Thinking about it now, he experienced a stab of shame that, aside from one brief moment in the foyer, he had forgotten that she was pregnant. How in the hell could he have forgotten even for an instant? He'd worried all day yesterday that his feelings of tenderness toward the mother of his child would be uncomfortably evident to everyone at the table. And then he'd forgotten. Truly, he was a bastard, and she was better off without him.
"It's a beautiful night, ain't it?" Louise said at his side.
"Isn't—not ain't," he said automatically.
"Isn't it. The stars look close enough to grab."
Another thing that bothered him was wondering if Philadelphia had always been as self-absorbed as she had seemed today. Was this a recently acquired trait? Perhaps a symptom of her condition? Or had he been so blinded that he hadn't looked beyond flirting eyes and dimpled cheeks? Abruptly he recalled teasing her about doing and saying whatever she pleased and the devil take the consequences. Today he'd observed a manifestation of the same thoughtlessly selfish behavior, but this time he had judged it harshly.
"Now who's being quiet?" Louise asked, nudging him with her shoulder.
"Thank you for going with me to Ma's for dinner," he said after a minute. She must have dreaded today's dinner as much as he had.
"I wasn't sure if I'd like your family, but I do. There was one time when I looked around the table and I thought, son of a bitch, here I am… "She halted abruptly and drew a breath. "And I thought, my stars, here I am having dinner with a real family, and I have as much right to be here as… you know, anyone else." Ducking her head, she pushed at the fingers of her gloves. "Anyway. It was a good moment, as fine a moment as I can recall."
"You keep that in mind," he said firmly, peering ahead into the cold darkness. "You do have a right to be there." He understood Philadelphia wanting to punish him, but Louise had nothing to do with Philadelphia 's pregnancy or her marriage to Wally. It wasn't right to punish someone else for his faults.
"Did you know that Gilly wants another baby?"
"She hasn't said anything, but it doesn't surprise me."
"She and Dave have been hoping for three years, but it hasn't happened yet. It doesn't seem fair that some folks get pregnant just like that, and others have to wait for years."
Instantly he remembered the amazing night on the kitchen floor and felt his thighs tighten. As long as he lived, he would never forget the moment when her nightgown dropped to her waist and he realized what she intended. And then seeing her in the frosty moonlight that gave her body a shimmer of silver. She wasn't small or delicate, but she was perfectly and beautifully proportioned. Small waist, full breasts, long, strong legs. Her skin had been taut and hot, smooth and firm to the touch.
Muscles tight, he pulled the wagon around the house to the mudroom door. "I'll put the wagon away. Do you need assistance?"
She laughed and scooted across the seat. "I can climb down without your help."
Cold wind rushed to fill the vacancy against his thigh and leg, but he didn't release the brake. When she reached the stoop, he called into the darkness. "Louise?"
"Yes?"
"I've been thinking… this might be a good night for you not to wear that damned nightgown."
"Tonight?" Surprise lifted her voice.
"Unless you'd rather not."
