Twenty fucking years he and Valerie had been married. And she’d just walked out.
Leaving him in the lurch. Leaving him this shitty mess.
He finished the beer and threw the can at the wall.
It was all her fault. And she needed to get back here to fix it.
He was gonna make that happen; damned if he wouldn’t.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
On Sunday evening, the timer rang in Valerie’s kitchen. Leaving off mashing up avocados, she pulled out the baking sheet from the oven.
The aroma of butter and sugar filled the room, making her mouth water.
Even better, the strips of Scottish shortbread were a light golden-brown and simply perfect.
Her man was going to get a treat tomorrow. He deserved one.
She’d never forget the way he’d had her punch and kick Piers as a teaching exercise to improve her fighting skills. He could easily have taken Piers out himself and been the big hero. Instead, he’d been thinking of her.
And later at home, he’d iced her arm, made her tea, and cuddled with her.
Being on the receiving end of caregiving still left her feeling odd. As if she was slacking off. But when she’d protested, he bluntly stated he loved taking care of her, so she’d better learn to accept as well as give. Because good relationships had a give and take.
Maybe because she’d been missing him all yesterday and today, she’d been thinking about that. About what they had together—and how they both put time and energy into the relationship.
He bought her sexy undies and fetishwear because she enjoyed wearing them…and he enjoyed removing them. She helped him with the Shadowlands paperwork because shared work lightened the load.
He picked her flowers from the gardens; she made him the sweet cookies he loved.
In the evenings, after he took off his prosthesis, she served as the go-fer when needed. In the mornings, he cooked breakfast and tidied the kitchen, because she didn’t deal well with life before coffee.
Tomorrow morning for the start of exam week, the best self-defense instructor in all the world would get shortbread, hopefully like his mama made in Scotland. She sampled a corner, and the buttery sweetness almost melted in her mouth.
Yum.
Pleased, she returned to making guacamole. Her children loved Mexican food, so she was making an enchilada casserole for Dillon’s welcome home meal.
And, after they caught up on everything, she’d upset their balance by telling them about Ghost.
With her free hand, she patted her tightening chest. Relax, Valerie. Why was she letting herself get worked up this way? Her children were in their twenties, not teenagers. Her being with Ghost might come as a shock to them, but after a moment, they’d realize she couldn’t be expected to live like a nun forever.
Of course they would.
She mashed the avocados harder, grateful she’d decided to cook for them. It gave her something to do with her hands.
In her small kitchen, Valerie studied Hailey and Dillon who’d perched on the tall stools on the other side of the island.
Rather than digging in with their usual big appetites, they were nibbling at the nachos she’d set out to hold them over until the chicken enchilada casserole finished baking.
Her introverted daughter was always quiet, but gregarious Dillon was also subdued today, although he’d given them a lovely summary of his time in China.
She studied him for a moment. He had her coloring with thick, dark blond hair, blue eyes, and fair skin, but had Barry’s big-framed body. He’d lost a few pounds while overseas, but not enough to be of concern. The faint crease between his eyebrows was more worrisome.
She’d stalled long enough.
“I know you both asked how I’m doing these days”—don’t mention Barry—“and actually, I’m doing better than I’d expected. I’ve, uh, even started dating again.”
Dillon stiffened and glanced at Hailey, whose face had gone still.
They didn’t speak at all.
Okay, okay, she’d known this wouldn’t go over well, not when the children still hoped for a reconciliation.
Valerie clasped her hands together. Despite the warmth of the oven behind her, she felt cold. “Anyway, the man I’ve been seeing—his name is Finn. He’s also a professor at the university, and I’d like you both to meet him. Maybe the next time you—”
“Is he who got you the job there?” Her son’s expression turned hostile.
“What? No, I didn’t meet him until—”
“Why would we want to meet the man who you were…were cheating with? He sounds like a real bastard to me,” Hailey said.
Dillon scowled. “I didn’t believe Dad when he told us