Our Now and Forever(13)

A boyish smile lifted one side of his mouth. “Not having sex won’t take lust out of the equation. Not for me. I can’t imagine ever not wanting you, Snow.”

The confession created a piercing pain in her heart. “You want my body. There’s more to me than that.”

The toe retreated to his side of the bed. “You’re right,” he said, taking her by surprise. Before she knew what he was doing, her husband placed a chaste kiss on her cheek and said, “Good night.”

Though she should have reveled in her victory, or been relieved that he’d seen her point, Snow didn’t experience either of those things. Instead, she felt . . . disappointed. Silly, since she was getting what she wanted. She rolled onto her side again, wide awake and expecting to stay that way for hours, listening to the sound of her husband breathing only inches away. But eventually, Snow closed her eyes and drifted into dreams, lured by the dark, or calmed by Caleb’s presence, she wasn’t sure which.





Chapter 5




Caleb woke in an empty bed, not sure where he was. Nothing looked familiar, but when he leaned up on his elbows, the scent of wildflowers danced around him.

“Snow,” he said, looking around. Fear sent his heart racing.

Had she left again? Where would she go this time? Caleb jumped out of bed and was grabbing his jeans when he heard a noise from the kitchen. Like a toaster popping. He peeked through the open bedroom door to find his wife making breakfast a few feet away.

“Morning,” she said, pulling a mug off a shelf above the counter. “I was going to give you five more minutes if you didn’t get up on your own.” Reaching for a half-filled coffee pot, she said, “Do you want milk or vanilla creamer? Afraid that’s all I have. I wasn’t expecting company.”

Caleb shoved one leg into his jeans. “Milk is fine,” he answered. “How long have you been up?”

“About an hour.” He heard plates hit the counter. “I need to leave soon.”

The clock on her nightstand said 7:10 a.m. “To open the store?” he asked, stepping into the living room as he pulled a clean shirt over his head.

Snow gave him a shy smile as she handed him the coffee. “No, I don’t open the store until noon on Sundays. There’s an auction today out at the old Brambleton place.”

“That’s where you get all the stuff you sell?” he asked, sipping his coffee, which was perfectly sweetened. She must have remembered how much sugar he liked.

Shaking her head, she dished eggs onto a plate. “Not always. I started as a consignment store. Locals brought in things they didn’t need or want anymore, I’d sell it, and we’d split the profit.” Sliding the loaded plate onto the counter, she gestured toward the fridge. “Butter for the toast is on the door.”

There was barely enough room to open the fridge with Snow standing at the stove, since the two appliances were directly across from each other, but Caleb managed to retrieve the butter as well as a knife from the proper drawer. “I’m surprised a town this small could cough up all that old stuff.”

“The town isn’t as small as you think,” she said, a tremor of irritation in her tone. “And some of that old stuff, as you call it, is valuable. I get customers from outside the county on a regular basis, and I earn enough to make a living.”

He’d wondered how she supported herself while they were apart. When he’d met her in Nashville, she was selling Western wear during the day, singing for tips four nights a week in local bars, and booking demo gigs whenever she could. The three jobs combined hadn’t been enough for her to live on her own without a roommate.

“Do you sing anywhere?” he asked. Though he hadn’t known she was a singer the night they met, the first time he heard her belting out “Delta Dawn” in a dive on Broadway, Caleb had been more than impressed.

The spatula hovered over the pan as Snow hesitated to answer. “No,” she finally said. One word that said a lot.

“Why not?” he asked. “You’re close enough to Nashville to record a demo now and then.”

“I don’t sing anymore, that’s all.” Snow loaded the remaining eggs onto her own plate. “Once we were married and you moved us to Baton Rouge, I thought I’d miss it, but I didn’t. Getting away made me realize that, though I enjoyed the act of singing, I didn’t like all the hoopla that went into trying to do it for a living.” Caleb didn’t like the way she said he’d moved her to Baton Rouge, as if she’d had no choice in the matter. “Besides,” Snow added, “running the store takes all my time.”