Nick brought her wine and settled on the couch leaving a respectful gap between them.
Lucy scrambled into his lap. “Daddy, you be the dragon voice.”
Nick raised his brows at Libby in query—something he did a lot these days. She nodded and he moved closer to read the text. His warmth enticed her to relax into him. It was what she wanted to do, because in so many ways she was tired of fighting, but giving in seemed like an easy out for him. She moved slightly, creating space between them. He didn’t shift to close it again.
When the nighttime routine of stories, teeth brushing and tucking in was over and the girls were snuggled into bed, Nick served up the cannelloni and the salad he’d made. As they ate, he told her about his plan to expand the fleet.
“Some city slickers love the idea of owning a yacht, but they don’t have the time to sail her more than a few times a year.”
“This sounds like those investment apartments in Queensland.”
“That’s exactly it. We hire out the yacht and take a cut and the owners get some money to cover the marina fees. They block out the times during the year they want to sail her.”
“How will you find investors?”
“Boat brokers, word of mouth, the internet and some old-school ads in sailing magazines.”
“It sounds like a good idea.”
“Thanks.”
He shot her a grin and she realized she’d missed seeing that smile. She returned it, enjoying the sensation until she remembered the reason neither of them had been smiling for so long. While they ate the tiramisu Rosa had brought over, probably to help Nick’s cause, their conversation drifted to logistics planning for Lucy, who was doing a soccer camp during school vacation.
“Do you want to have coffee on the couch?” Nick asked.
“Okay.”
“This is nice,” he said, sitting down next to her.
“You’ve always made good coffee.”
“Thanks.” He stroked the back of her hand.
This time his warmth trickled through her and the ice around her heart softened. This was the caring man she’d fallen in love with.
“But I wasn’t talking about the coffee. I meant this evening’s been nice. Normal. Like it used to be.” He kissed her hand. “I’ve missed us.”
The memory of his betrayal kicked in and suddenly the man kissing her wasn’t her Nick. Her desire flatlined. “That’s not my fault.”
Nick sucked in his lips. “I didn’t say it was.”
Libby remembered Alice’s comment that Nick was doing everything she’d asked of him to prove himself. She heard her twin saying, “cheap shot, Libs,” but it wasn’t enough to halt the march of her indignation.
“Do you miss sex?” she asked.
“Of course I do.”
Accept his words. But the next question was already burning the back of her throat and leaping across her lips. “With her or with me?”
His eyes widened in confusion. “What? With you. Of course with you.”
But there was no of course about it. “Was the sex with her good?”
“Jesus, Libby!” His coffee cup clattered onto the table.
“Is that a yes or a no?”
“How many times do I have to answer that question?”
“As many times as I need to hear the answer!”
“But we’ve been over and over it for three months. There’s nothing left to say.”
“Humor me.”
The veins in his neck throbbed. “The sex I had with her before we started dating was nothing to write home about. Nothing like what we’ve shared.”
“Yet it happened quite a few times. You must have liked it the night she got pregnant.”
Nick jerked to his feet and started pacing, his gaze fixed on a point on the wall. “I was tanked and miserable. I can barely remember it.”
Her heart thumped. Why are you doing this to yourself? Why not just order a whip and flagellate yourself? She wanted to stop quizzing him and protect herself from thinking about him having sex with that woman in their bed, but all the books and websites told her the betrayer never tells the full story straight off the bat. Betrayers continue to lie. And parts of Nick’s story didn’t make sense to her. She needed to keep probing until Nick’s answers were consistent. Otherwise, how could she ever trust him again?
“If you were tanked, how did you get it up?”
He paled. “Libby, how does this help? Talking about it only upsets you.”
“Not knowing upsets me! If you were so drunk, how did you get it up?”
He swallowed. “She gave me head.”
It was like a knife plunged deep into her heart. Despite the risk of even more pain, she grabbed hold of the information, determined not to let go until she exposed the real story. “You keep insisting you thought it was me in bed with you even though I was in Melbourne.”
“I did.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not.”
Rage kept her upright. “Want to know how I know you are? I don’t give you blow jobs!”
“I was drunk! Hell, I was more asleep than awake. My blood was in my dick, not my brain.”
“That’s not an excuse.”
“What do you want me to say then?”
“I want to know why you did it?”
He sighed and rubbed his face, his three-day stubble reddening his palms. “I don’t know why. All I know is that I’d been feeling like shit for weeks and suddenly I was having this dream where for the first time in ages I felt warm and safe and the pain was fading. I’d have followed that feeling anywhere …”
He raised his eyes to hers, guilt and shame shining bright. “I dunno. I just remember coming to and wanting to keep feeling like that. I didn’t think too hard about who was in bed with me. I just concentrated on how it was making me feel …”
It was the first time Nick
