They were nearly out of debt, headed for bigger and better things. She loved it here, no matter what Kyle thought. And he wanted to be here. So what was wrong?
The same thing that had been wrong for months, she admitted to herself unhappily. Kyle had gone to the bank by himself, without consulting her, on a decision that affected both of them. He had always done that, made all the decisions, assumed a protective role.
And before Joel’s death, she had always loved the niche he’d created for her in his life; she couldn’t deny it. It had always been enough just to be Kyle’s softness and laughter, his lighter side, his love. But it was not enough now. Her man was burdened with trouble he couldn’t share with her, determined to shelter a lady who didn’t want sheltering any longer. Having stood in his shadow for so long, it was a tenuous business trying to assert herself. The bookshelves were full of theoretical ideas; finding a solution was not so easy in real life, though. Kyle had never accepted help from anyone, always making his own way. He was the original strong, silent type…
And when she had offered help in this time of crisis, he had rejected her offering. She felt like a burden, not a mate, and was terribly afraid he saw her precisely that way. She had insisted on handling the antiques, loving that work anyway, but also knowing they had never really made a dent in Joel’s debts. Kyle had done it all, taken on all the responsibility.
She didn’t want to be a responsibility. She saw so many things more clearly now. How could a man really love someone he couldn’t talk to without reserve, someone he couldn’t share all his problems with? Someone who couldn’t carry her own weight? And if he didn’t love her as he once had; if he saw her as a responsibility; if he was taking on the expansion solely because he thought he had to for her sake…
Erica put the sheet of cookies in the oven and set the timer. Lord knew what they were going to taste like. When one started from scratch, the outcome could never be guaranteed. Wait and see, she told herself.
Chapter 5
There was a war going on in the skies this late July afternoon. A simple sun-and-cloud war. One minute the clouds were allied in big, fat gray bunches, threatening a furious deluge of rain, and the next minute the sun attacked with such searing intensity that not a soul on the place had a shirt on—barring Erica.
She watched the skies with amusement, her hands on her hips. In a cream-colored gauzy blouse that loosely dipped to a V at her throat, and with her hair swirled into a careless coil on top of her head, she looked fresh and feminine in spite of the sultry day, with a graceful softness to her features. It had been one of those I’m-going-to-live-forever kind of days. In spite of her newly discovered affinity for varnish and brush, it had been a delight to get away from her work. She had taken an overnight trip to Milwaukee, and included in the packages still unwrapped in the house was a negligee designed to incite the most stoic man and a casual hostess dress in sunset colors. Kyle had stuffed a handful of bills in her purse, and told her not to come home until she was broke.
She was.
With the new building going up, the place had turned into a madhouse. Her two-day excursion had not really been for buying clothes, but for coming up with display ideas, and her car was still packed with the basics for the showroom—once the structure was done.
Her hazel eyes focused on the unfinished building. Though it was still bare boards at this stage, the sweet, lingering smell of new wood reached out to Erica like the smell of anticipation. The size and scope of the skeleton building were already there. In only two days, the workmen had made incredible progress. The building crew consisted of a half dozen teenagers from the neighborhood whom Kyle had hired, Kyle, and yes, Morgan…who, to her amazement, could actually put in a full day’s manual
The same thing that had been wrong for months, she admitted to herself unhappily. Kyle had gone to the bank by himself, without consulting her, on a decision that affected both of them. He had always done that, made all the decisions, assumed a protective role.
And before Joel’s death, she had always loved the niche he’d created for her in his life; she couldn’t deny it. It had always been enough just to be Kyle’s softness and laughter, his lighter side, his love. But it was not enough now. Her man was burdened with trouble he couldn’t share with her, determined to shelter a lady who didn’t want sheltering any longer. Having stood in his shadow for so long, it was a tenuous business trying to assert herself. The bookshelves were full of theoretical ideas; finding a solution was not so easy in real life, though. Kyle had never accepted help from anyone, always making his own way. He was the original strong, silent type…
And when she had offered help in this time of crisis, he had rejected her offering. She felt like a burden, not a mate, and was terribly afraid he saw her precisely that way. She had insisted on handling the antiques, loving that work anyway, but also knowing they had never really made a dent in Joel’s debts. Kyle had done it all, taken on all the responsibility.
She didn’t want to be a responsibility. She saw so many things more clearly now. How could a man really love someone he couldn’t talk to without reserve, someone he couldn’t share all his problems with? Someone who couldn’t carry her own weight? And if he didn’t love her as he once had; if he saw her as a responsibility; if he was taking on the expansion solely because he thought he had to for her sake…
Erica put the sheet of cookies in the oven and set the timer. Lord knew what they were going to taste like. When one started from scratch, the outcome could never be guaranteed. Wait and see, she told herself.
Chapter 5
There was a war going on in the skies this late July afternoon. A simple sun-and-cloud war. One minute the clouds were allied in big, fat gray bunches, threatening a furious deluge of rain, and the next minute the sun attacked with such searing intensity that not a soul on the place had a shirt on—barring Erica.
She watched the skies with amusement, her hands on her hips. In a cream-colored gauzy blouse that loosely dipped to a V at her throat, and with her hair swirled into a careless coil on top of her head, she looked fresh and feminine in spite of the sultry day, with a graceful softness to her features. It had been one of those I’m-going-to-live-forever kind of days. In spite of her newly discovered affinity for varnish and brush, it had been a delight to get away from her work. She had taken an overnight trip to Milwaukee, and included in the packages still unwrapped in the house was a negligee designed to incite the most stoic man and a casual hostess dress in sunset colors. Kyle had stuffed a handful of bills in her purse, and told her not to come home until she was broke.
She was.
With the new building going up, the place had turned into a madhouse. Her two-day excursion had not really been for buying clothes, but for coming up with display ideas, and her car was still packed with the basics for the showroom—once the structure was done.
Her hazel eyes focused on the unfinished building. Though it was still bare boards at this stage, the sweet, lingering smell of new wood reached out to Erica like the smell of anticipation. The size and scope of the skeleton building were already there. In only two days, the workmen had made incredible progress. The building crew consisted of a half dozen teenagers from the neighborhood whom Kyle had hired, Kyle, and yes, Morgan…who, to her amazement, could actually put in a full day’s manual
Similar Books
