Page 98 of Winter Vows

“Don’t give me any reason to,” she countered. “Love you.”

Dylan smiled as he hung up. He really needed to spend more time counting his blessings. Trish and Laura would be at the top of the list, sharing first place. His brothers—especially Jeb—ranked a close second. They were the people he’d always known he could count on. Just like the Adamses, they were fiercely loyal, strong-willed and honorable.

And Dr. Kelsey James? The thought popped into his head, startling him. Where had that come from? His libido, no doubt. He’d have to find some way to deal with that when this was all over. For now, though, he definitely needed to table it.

That was easier said than done, he concluded when he walked into her house just after noon and found her on her hands and knees scrubbing the kitchen floor, her sexy little butt poked in the air, and a pair of shorts exposing way too many inches of her legs. Her sleeveless T-shirt had crawled up her back, leaving her midriff bare. He sucked in a deep breath and tried to tame his wildly errant thoughts.

“It’s a little late in the year for spring-cleaning, isn’t it?” he suggested. He spoke quietly, but startled her just the same.

She jumped, knocking over the pail of sudsy water beside her. Her gaze shot up. “You,” she exclaimed as if he’d been an unwelcome thief. “Look what you made me do.”

“Tell me where to look and I’ll get a mop.”

“Never mind. I’ll clean it up as I go.”

Dylan let it pass. He circled the spreading puddle of water, grabbed a chair and sat down to watch. He could see that the scrubbing and regaining her composure were giving her an equally difficult time.

“Don’t mind me,” she said eventually. “Sitting around waiting was driving me nuts. When I’m upset, I clean. If this drags on much longer, the house will be spotless.”

“Paul hasn’t called today?”

She shook her head, then rocked back on her haunches to meet his gaze. “He’s doing it deliberately,” she said bitterly. “He wants me to suffer.”

“Why? Because you divorced him?”

“Maybe.”

Dylan had a hunch that was only part of the story. “Why did you leave him?”

“It wasn’t working out.”

“Kelsey,” he chided. “I thought you were going to talk to me when I got back. I’m here now. Let’s have the whole story.”

A wave of something that might have been shame washed over her face. “It’s just so ugly,” she began, then stopped when the phone rang. Clearly relieved at the interruption, she grabbed for the portable phone sitting on a nearby chair.

“Yes?”

Dylan couldn’t hear what was said, but something in her expression told him all he needed to know.

“Paul?” he mouthed.

She nodded. “Let me talk to Bobby,” she said, as Dylan slipped into the living room to pick up the extension there.

“Mommy?”

The tentative little voice tugged at Dylan’s heart. Did every little kid sound like that on the phone? Would Shane if he could hear him?

“Hi, baby,” Kelsey said, the upbeat note in her voice clearly forced. “How’re you doing?”

“I wanna come home, Mommy. I miss you.”

“I miss you, too, sweetie. You’ll be home soon. Are you having fun with Daddy?”

“Uh-uh,” Bobby complained. “He won’t let me go outside. He bringed me hamburgers and French fries for lunch and dinner every day. Don’t want hamburgers anymore.”

“I thought you loved hamburgers,” Kelsey said to him, responding to the petulance with a teasing tone. “You always grumble that I never buy you hamburgers.”

“No more,” he said adamantly. “Want pizza and ice cream.”

---