herself sitting on the couch alone.
“Ritt?”
He shook his head. “Goodnight, Shelby.”
She watched him go, doing her best to pull herself together. She had fallen prey to her own game, to the close proximity to the one man who knew how to get to her better than anyone else.
A bitter laugh escaped her. She had almost lost sight of what was important, almost let the past get the most of her. But there was only now, her wanting a divorce. Him, not willing to give it to her. And she’d do well to remember it.
Chapter Five
Ritt let himself into his house the following afternoon, the smell of sweet cake wafting about him. It was a welcoming smell almost as alluring as the soft floral scent his wife preferred these days.
He shook his head. Last night, them, the movie; it was almost too much. It had taken everything he had to kiss her and then walk away, but he had to have her wanting him, wanting to be with him, wanting to make everything between them work once again.
That was the plan. Yep, he finally admitted it to himself. He wanted his wife back. Probably always had.
Oh she wanted him, physically. He could see the light of desire in her eyes, hear the quickening of her breath whenever he touched her, but he wanted more. He wanted her love.
Craziest. Thing. Ever.
“Shelby?” he called.
“In here.”
He made his way into the kitchen, expecting to find a chaos similar to the night she’d made them dinner. Instead, everything was neat and orderly. Cakes stacked and looking delicious.
“And you didn’t even use a cake mix?”
“Bite your tongue.”
Ritt watched as she spread the last of the creamy frosting onto the third cake. She was about to pitch the butter knife into the sink full of soapy water when he plucked it from her fingers.
“You can’t waste perfectly good icing that way.” He licked the icing from the flat edge, surveying the cakes scattered across his mother’s sideboard. “This is fantastic.”
She smiled her thanks. “If I always licked the spoon, I’d be as big as a house.”
“You never had to worry about your weight before,” he said, wondering if she had already submerged the icing bowl into the sink full of soapy water.
She shrugged. “Things change.”
Didn’t he know it.
“Craig and Delilah should be here any minute.” As she said the words, the couple turned into the driveway.
Shelby untied the apron from around her waist and pulled it over her head.
He was still reeling from the fact that she couldn’t cook a simple casserole but she could bake a scrumptious-looking cake. But the real test was still to come.
“Shelby.” Delilah beelined for her friend, wrapping her in a tight hug. “I can’t thank you enough for doing this for me.”
“I’m happy to.”
Delilah released her and nodded toward Ritt. “I meant what I said about paying you double.”
“No way.” Shelby shook her head. “This is my gift to you.”
Tears welled in Delilah’s eyes.
Ritt looked to Craig.
He shrugged.
Women.
“Hey,” Shelby said, pulling Delilah in for a hug.
Delilah swiped at her tears. “I’m sorry. This has been so stressful. One thing after another. The bridesmaids’ dresses were the wrong color and the tux place lost all the measurements, now the cake.”
“But it’s all corrected now, right?” Shelby asked.
Delilah sniffed with a nod.
“Then there’s nothing to cry about.”
“Amen,” Craig mouthed.
Ritt had the feeling that his friends had been fighting. If he had to guess, it was over something stupid about the wedding. See? Weddings were nothing but trouble. The two people most likely to survive the statistics were arguing over paper napkins and ribbon color.
Delilah gave her a watery smile. “You’re right, of course. Level-headed Shelby.”
Ritt rolled his eyes. Level-headed Shelby who cut him off at the knees every chance she got. Who wouldn’t talk about the problems between them. Who wanted to divorce him and leave him in the
“Ritt?”
He shook his head. “Goodnight, Shelby.”
She watched him go, doing her best to pull herself together. She had fallen prey to her own game, to the close proximity to the one man who knew how to get to her better than anyone else.
A bitter laugh escaped her. She had almost lost sight of what was important, almost let the past get the most of her. But there was only now, her wanting a divorce. Him, not willing to give it to her. And she’d do well to remember it.
Chapter Five
Ritt let himself into his house the following afternoon, the smell of sweet cake wafting about him. It was a welcoming smell almost as alluring as the soft floral scent his wife preferred these days.
He shook his head. Last night, them, the movie; it was almost too much. It had taken everything he had to kiss her and then walk away, but he had to have her wanting him, wanting to be with him, wanting to make everything between them work once again.
That was the plan. Yep, he finally admitted it to himself. He wanted his wife back. Probably always had.
Oh she wanted him, physically. He could see the light of desire in her eyes, hear the quickening of her breath whenever he touched her, but he wanted more. He wanted her love.
Craziest. Thing. Ever.
“Shelby?” he called.
“In here.”
He made his way into the kitchen, expecting to find a chaos similar to the night she’d made them dinner. Instead, everything was neat and orderly. Cakes stacked and looking delicious.
“And you didn’t even use a cake mix?”
“Bite your tongue.”
Ritt watched as she spread the last of the creamy frosting onto the third cake. She was about to pitch the butter knife into the sink full of soapy water when he plucked it from her fingers.
“You can’t waste perfectly good icing that way.” He licked the icing from the flat edge, surveying the cakes scattered across his mother’s sideboard. “This is fantastic.”
She smiled her thanks. “If I always licked the spoon, I’d be as big as a house.”
“You never had to worry about your weight before,” he said, wondering if she had already submerged the icing bowl into the sink full of soapy water.
She shrugged. “Things change.”
Didn’t he know it.
“Craig and Delilah should be here any minute.” As she said the words, the couple turned into the driveway.
Shelby untied the apron from around her waist and pulled it over her head.
He was still reeling from the fact that she couldn’t cook a simple casserole but she could bake a scrumptious-looking cake. But the real test was still to come.
“Shelby.” Delilah beelined for her friend, wrapping her in a tight hug. “I can’t thank you enough for doing this for me.”
“I’m happy to.”
Delilah released her and nodded toward Ritt. “I meant what I said about paying you double.”
“No way.” Shelby shook her head. “This is my gift to you.”
Tears welled in Delilah’s eyes.
Ritt looked to Craig.
He shrugged.
Women.
“Hey,” Shelby said, pulling Delilah in for a hug.
Delilah swiped at her tears. “I’m sorry. This has been so stressful. One thing after another. The bridesmaids’ dresses were the wrong color and the tux place lost all the measurements, now the cake.”
“But it’s all corrected now, right?” Shelby asked.
Delilah sniffed with a nod.
“Then there’s nothing to cry about.”
“Amen,” Craig mouthed.
Ritt had the feeling that his friends had been fighting. If he had to guess, it was over something stupid about the wedding. See? Weddings were nothing but trouble. The two people most likely to survive the statistics were arguing over paper napkins and ribbon color.
Delilah gave her a watery smile. “You’re right, of course. Level-headed Shelby.”
Ritt rolled his eyes. Level-headed Shelby who cut him off at the knees every chance she got. Who wouldn’t talk about the problems between them. Who wanted to divorce him and leave him in the
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