Seven Sisters - Earlene Fowler [41]
“Thanks, Benni. I’ll let you get back to sleep now. Sorry to wake you. Good-bye.”
“You didn’t wake . . .” But she’d hung up before I could finish my protest.
Gabe found me fifteen minutes later, standing in the kitchen wearing one of his old blue LAPD T-shirts and watching coffee drip into the pot.
He came over, lifted my hair, and nuzzled the back of my neck. “No woman has ever looked better in my T-shirts than you.” His warm tongue licked a cool, wet circle on my neck.
I turned and snapped, “And just how many women have you seen in your T-shirts?”
He jerked back, surprise widening his eyes. “Whoa, let’s start over. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen not”—he held up his hands—“that I ever look at other women to compare, because I don’t, but if I did, you would be the most beautiful, I’m absolutely sure.”
Glaring at him, I poured a cup of coffee. His dark face was glossy with sweat, his damp cotton shorts clinging in a way that was not unattractive. The sincerity in his blue-gray eyes was real, and his white, slightly crooked smile seduced me, as it first had in Liddie’s parking lot that cold November night a few years ago. I held out the mug of coffee to him. “You’re lucky I’m in love with you, Friday.”
He took the coffee, then kissed me on the cheek. “PMS, sweetheart?” he whispered. “Shall I fetch the Godiva chocolate?”
“Oh, man, you’re asking for it now,” I said, swatting at his stomach. “Bad cop, no doughnut.”
He laughed, and Scout, who had been watching our exchange with his one German shepherd ear straight up in worry, barked. I took a dog biscuit out of the jar on the counter and tossed it to him. “Good Scout. I wasn’t talking to you. You are the one male in this house who knows how to keep his mouth shut.”
“And why are we so cranky this morning?”
“We are not cranky. Do you want some toast?”
“No, I’ll have a bagel.” He opened the refrigerator door. “Are we out of grape jelly?”
I growled inwardly, then said in an even voice, “By the way, Lydia called while you were jogging. She said she’d like you to call her back. She’ll be at home for the next hour, then at the office.” I poured myself some coffee and pushed my way around him to get the milk, taking it over to the kitchen table.
“So that’s what’s wrong,” he said, his voice amused. He faced me, the jelly jar in his hand, his expression searching. “Was she rude to you?”
I sat down, propping my elbows on the table. The wooden chair was cold against my bare thighs. “No, Gabe, she was perfectly gracious. I just need a cup of coffee. Call her.”
When he came back from calling her, he sat down at the table across from me. I was well into my second cup of coffee and feeling a bit more genial toward the world, even one that held perfect first wives. “So, what did she want?” I asked.
“She’s coming back up here to spend the weekend. Says she wants to get to know Bliss better, that last weekend was not a good way to start an in-law relationship. She wants us all to go to dinner tonight.”
“I agree that it was a rough start to a relationship. Do you think Sam and Bliss will go?”
“I called Sam already, and he’s not working at the bookstore. I know it’s Bliss’s day off. He says he’s sure she’ll want to come. Lydia’ll be staying at the San Celina Inn, so we’re just going to eat there.”
“Their pot roast is great. It’s usually crowded on a Friday night though. You might want to make reservations.”
“So, are you free?”
“Me?”
He nodded. “Lydia specifically told me to tell you that you were included.”
“How thoughtful of her,” I said, thinking, Bland face, Benni, bland face. “But this doesn’t really have anything to do with me, so I’ll pass.”
“What do you mean it doesn’t have anything to do with you? You’re my wife. You’re Sam’s stepmother. Of course it has to do with you.” A tinge of irritation crept into his voice.
I went over and pushed my way onto his lap. “Let me attempt to be a mature human being about this. You go to dinner with your son and his fiancée and your gorgeous ex-wife and let me just trust you, okay? I