Because a Husband Is Forever by Marie Ferrarella Page A

me as the type to suddenly ignore your son. Something else had to have happened. Divorce was my first guess.” Mostly because so many people she knew found themselves in that position at one time or another. Thatshe hadn’t had one marriage to her name made her unusual. “They say fifty percent of the couples wind up that way.”
    His expression was dour. “Nice to know I didn’t mess up any statistics.”
    She forgot about being hungry. Dakota leaned her head against her hand. “What happened?”
    The look in his eyes warned her off. There was a DO NOT TRESPASS sign right there in big, bold letters. She ignored it.
    â€œA little personal, don’t you think?” He all but growled the words.
    â€œYes,” she answered with unabashed honesty and enthusiasm. “But if we’re going to be friends—”
    The knife fell from his fingers, clattering to the plate. Ian looked at her sharply. “Who said we’re going to be friends?”
    â€œI did.” And then she smiled at him. Ian found the smile completely unreadable. And annoying. As were her next words. “And, in a way, you did.”
    The woman was clearly suffering from some kind of delusions. “What?”
    â€œYour partner left with my production assistant. You’re still here.”
    He blew out a breath. Why was she making more out of this than there was? He’d remained because, after giving it some thought, it was logical to stay, nothing else.
    â€œLike you pointed out, we’d already ordered. And I was hungry. No sense in letting good food go to waste.”
    He watched as a completely unfathomable smile played along her lips. “Whatever you say.”
    He shook his head. “Anyone ever tell you you can be irritating?”
    â€œYes,” she freely admitted, then added, “but my pure heart usually gets them to cut me some slack.” Her expression softened a little, becoming just a shade serious. “You don’t have to tell me why you got divorced if you don’t want to.”
    â€œThanks,” he said. He’d thought that was the end of it, but looking back, he should have known better. Gorgeous though she was, Dakota Delany still had something in common with an unrelenting freight train.
    â€œBut my guess would be that she got tired of being a cop’s wife, tired of waiting to see if you’d come walking through that door each night.”
    She’d hit the nail right on the head on her first try. He supposed that made his life predictable. “Not very original, is it?”
    â€œDoesn’t have to be original to hurt.”
    If that was pity, he wanted no part of it. “You always probe people like this over a meal?”
    â€œNo. Sometimes I do it over drinks.”
    She got the smile she was after. Granted, it was just the barest hint of a smile, but given the kind of person she was working with, she figured it was a major triumph. Dakota saw his eyes shift to just beneath her chin. He was either contemplating clipping her one, or her necklace had caught his eye.
    â€œIt’s a cameo,” she said, watching his eyes as he admired her necklace.
    â€œFamily heirloom?”
    She’d made short work of her meal, she realized. Taking the last bite, she placed her fork down on the plate and crossed her knife over it.
    â€œSomebody’s family,” she allowed, “but not mine. I just bought it this morning at one of those quaint little stores along the coast.” She thought about it for a moment. Funny how that had fallen into place for her. Her mother was the one who adored antiques. As a child, she’d always thought of haunting the various dusty little stores as punishment. Maybe something inside of her had wanted to retreat to those childhood days, where there had been parents to buffer her and keep hurt from her door. “Don’t even know why I went. I don’t usually go to those kinds of