“He is an accomplished man.” She did not confuse intelligence with honor.

“So you understand why I would trust his assessment of a girl like Sadie.”

When words poised on the tip of her tongue were too harsh to vocalize, her mother had always cautioned her to count to ten and then smile. She barely finished the count before she said, “Why do you trust him more than me?”

He shook his head, as if he were unraveling a puzzle. “That’s not what I said.”

“Of course it is,” she snapped.

“Don’t challenge me on this, Olivia,” he warned. “I’m willing to forgive, even allow the driving, but my opinion takes precedence in our home.”

“I’m sorry that my differing opinions and driving trouble you so, but I won’t be backing down from either.”

His frown deepened, and his jaw tightened.

“Edward, you’re talking to a woman who worked in a London hospital that was bombed. I survived under the rubble for nine hours. I’m sure if I could survive in the rubble, I can drive a motor vehicle on a regular basis and have a difference of opinion with you. Besides, my driving will free you up from those tedious trips into Charlottesville for shopping.”

“I don’t mind taking you,” he quickly offered.

“That’s sweet of you, but it will lift my mood. Get me out of this slump I’ve been in.” She took him by the hand and guided him off the porch toward the car. Glancing back at the hospital to make sure no one was looking, she leaned in and kissed him on the lips. She wanted him to feel the promise of a new and stronger wife and friend.

He raised his hand to her waist and tugged her very gently toward him. His fingers curled into a loose fist, as if he was fighting the urge to take what he really wanted right now.

She drew back, pleased with herself. “Let’s have lunch. And then when you get home tonight, I’ll arrange a special dessert for you.”

A slow grin curled his lips. “It’s nice to have you back.”

This was the first time since the rubble had buried her that she truly felt like herself. It was as if she had just tossed off the last rock pinning her down. “Good to be back.”

She handed him a picnic blanket, which he spread out on their bench. She sat, curling her legs beside his as she unpacked the basket.

“I feel as if you have somehow played me,” he said.

“I have, darling. And I suspect you’re okay with it.” She served him a plate of fried chicken with corn bread, along with a red-and-white-checkered napkin.

He took a bite, frowning a little as he regarded her. “I don’t like the idea of you driving on the roads alone.”

“What if I promise only to drive in the daylight? No night driving.”

“Good Lord, I had never even considered night driving.”

“I’ll also never drive more than, say, twenty miles.”

“In the daytime. When it’s not inclement weather?”

“Yes, if that will make you feel better. My driving days will be picture perfect like today.”

“It still makes me nervous.”

She grinned and leaned toward him, ensuring him an ample view of her bosom. “That sounds like a yes to me.”

“It is a reluctant yes.”

“And I shall always take a slow yes over a fast no.” She plucked a piece of chicken out of the basket and raised it to her lips. “Do remember to invite Malcolm.”

“Why?” Suspicion darkened his tone.

“I know how you have missed him, and I would dearly love to catch up.”

“What are you planning?”

“Nothing.”

“Malcom is family, Olivia. Don’t ever embarrass me in front of him—or publicly, for that matter.” His gaze hardened as he glanced up toward the brick building and then back at her.

Her breathing slowed. “What are you saying? That you would lock me up in a place like that?”

“I spend my days dealing with troublesome women, and I refuse to do it in my home.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

A heavy silence lingered between them. He smiled finally and kissed her softly on the cheek. “Don’t ever force me to make that kind of choice.”

She met his gaze, absorbing the full meaning of his threat.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

LIBBY

Wednesday, June 17, 2020

The Woodmont Estate

They did not have the luxury of cuddling or spending the night together. After they made love, they dressed, each tossing the other sheepish grins, and he drove her home.

“That was nice,” she said.

“Just nice?” he teased.

“It was great. Just what the doctor ordered. But I don’t want things to get weird between us.”

“Nothing about this feels weird to me. I’d like to do it again. Maybe a proper meal that doesn’t involve elementary school boy talk and does include a proper bed.”

That felt a little like a commitment. Maybe not a huge lifetime thing, but it was a start. She could not even begin to think about anything beyond next week, but more sex with Colton was totally acceptable.

“I have a bed.” She reached for her door handle. “And I can cook for us. Unless being here is a little too close to home. I know how small towns can be.”

“Here is fine.” He leaned over and kissed her on the lips.

“Weekends don’t work for me for the next few weeks, but weeknights do.”

“Next Wednesday?” he offered.

“Done.”

She kissed him one last time and got out of the car, climbing her front steps as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Of course, the weight would return, but for tonight that was good enough. She opened the front door and glanced back to see him waiting. She switched on the light in the front entryway, and when she closed the door behind her, he drove off.

She sat on the couch, grabbed a pillow, and hugged it to her midsection. Her phone rang. It was Sierra.

“What have you been doing?” she asked.

“I had a date, sort of.”

“With Colton?”

She all but sang the words. “Yes.”

“I hope mad passionate sex was involved.” Her grin echoed in her tone.

“Maybe a little.”

Sierra laughed. “Good for you. Very life affirming. I won’t force you yet to give me all the details, but I want you to know I’m happy for you.”

“It was just one date. It may not be a long-term thing.”

“There’s no such thing as long term. All you got is now. Sweet dreams.” Sierra hung up.

Libby lay back against the couch pillows, feeling a genuine peace. As she stared at the popcorn ceiling, it was not even the least bit annoying. Well, not that much.

Her phone rang. She did not recognize the number, but thinking it might be a stressed-out bride, she answered it.

“Libby McKenzie.”

“This is Lofton Grant.”

She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the couch, as if ready to spring into action. “Lofton. Is Elaine all right?”

“I want you to stay away from my mother.”

Lofton’s voice sounded as if she had been doused in too much wine. “Excuse me?”