“And dishes.”
Crickitt’s domestic fantasy of Shane became a reality as she stood at his side at the sink. She watched through her lashes as he scrubbed a pot, elbow-deep in suds, his bare biceps contracting and rippling while he worked. Water dripping from his hands, he handed the pot to her, tugging the handle as she grasped it and dragging her a few inches closer to his face.
“I never asked you how dinner went,” he said, relinquishing the pot. “Apart from the food poisoning, of course.”
Concentrating too hard on drying the cookware, Crickitt debated her answer. She saw no reason not to be up front. “Terrible,” she said.
“Really,” Shane said, sounding intrigued.
She placed the pot in the cabinet over her head. “Yes. Really. Would you have expected a dinner with a former spouse to be anything other than terrible?”
He concentrated on washing a cutting board. “Maybe. You have a lot of history with…” He waited for her to fill in the blank.
She was reluctant to allow her ex-husband to intrude on their near-perfect moment, but because she didn’t want to make it a big deal, she answered him. “Ronald.”
“Ronald?” he said with mock alarm.
She swatted him with the dish towel. “Be nice.”
“What went so terribly?”
“I don’t know if I should tell you. You’re far too giddy about my plight.”
He cleared his throat and affected a stern expression. “Is this better?”
Crickitt smiled. Even scowling he was attractive. She may as well acknowledge the fact that they were getting closer. Close enough that she felt safe trusting him with the truth. More than that, she wanted to trust him.
“He told me he loved me.” Crickitt spoke the words quickly, like ripping off a Band-Aid. She didn’t have to look at Shane long to determine his frown was genuine. “I was stunned,” she admitted. “We split up because he fell out of love with me. And after what he said the night he called me at work…” She trailed off. She hadn’t meant to bring that up.
“The night you were crying.”
The same night Shane held her, his arms shaking so much she’d worried for a moment she’d end up consoling him. But as soon as she leaned into him, they both calmed. As if he’d found as much comfort in her arms as she had in his. Then she swallowed, remembering every second of what happened after. “Yes.”
“What did he say?” he asked.
She shook her head, not wanting to relive the hellish moments before the heavenly ones that followed.
Shane waited and said nothing.
“He just…he said his love for me was…” The words stuck in her throat like briars.
“Was what?” Shane pressed.
It was so embarrassing, so debasing. She didn’t want to believe she’d cast her twenties into the wind. That she’d spent nearly a third of her life futilely, in a marriage where her husband was never more attracted to her than—
“Crickitt.” Shane’s voice dipped, gently scolding her. He pulled out of the soapy water and took the towel from her, drying his hands. “Was what?”
She steeled herself, then blew the words out in a huff. “He said he loved me like a sister.”
Shane laughed.
She winced, the sound lancing her heart. She’d expected sympathy, a heartfelt apology.
“I’m sorry,” he said, grinning.
Not the kind of apology I was looking for.
Crickitt pulled back her shoulders. Heated tears pricked the backs of her eyes and she blinked them back, refusing to make a bigger fool of herself than she already had.
His hands landed on her shoulders. She shook them off, unable to meet his eyes.
“It’s not funny. I’m sorry,” Shane insisted.
“Then why are you laughing?” She choked through the lump of raw humiliation. It hadn’t been easy for her to leave her shell, to show her barely healed underbelly.
“Because…because…”
She blew out an exasperated growl and started to step away from him.
Shane bent, meeting her eyes. “Because I’m relieved, okay? I thought you slept with him the night you had dinner.”
She blinked. Then laughed. He was wrong. It was funny. “You thought I slept with Ronald that night?” she said. Shane looked chagrined. She was more amused. That explained his bad mood yesterday. “I was wondering why you were so angry—” She stopped, her jaw dropping slowly as she comprehended exactly why he was angry. She moved to meet his shifting gaze. “Shane, why were you angry?”