book bounced off the case and crashed against the wall behind him.
“What the hell?” he exploded.
“First, first,” B.J. started through gritted teeth.
“You accuse me of sleeping with you in Houston because you thought I felt sorry for you.” Snorting out a disbelieving sound, she threw a stapler at him.
“Damn it, B.J.!” He dodged her aim again and yet again when she heaved a calculator. “Cut it out.”
“No. I want you to tell me how it was sympathy sex when I wanted to be with you that night more than I’d ever wanted to be with anyone? When I’ve always wanted to be with you?”
Grady froze, having no answer. He stared
mutely as she continued ranting.
“And now. Now you actually think I married you only because of some deal your dad wanted to make with me, as if I was some sissy-scared schoolgirl who could actually be intimidated by his bluffing threats.
God!”
She glanced around her. When she caught sight of a container full of pens and snatched up the whole bundle, pulling them out of their holder, Grady braced himself.
“Don’t even think about it,” he warned.
Instead of throwing the pens, she squeezed them in her hand and quivered as she glared. “You’re such a sanctimonious hypocrite,” she charged. “How can you honestly be mad at me for thinking I married you for some other reason than love when you only married me because of this baby?”
The air rushed out of his lungs when he realized she was right. Dear Lord, she was so right. How could he expect her to have a pure purpose when he’d only been thinking about morality and
obligations?
“I’ll tell you right now,” she said, breaking into his thoughts. “That deed to my plane, and
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The Trouble with Tomboys
everything else your father’s said to me, had no part in my reasons for marrying you. And you’re dead wrong if you think it did. The only thing I’m truly guilty of is falling in love with and marrying Amy Rawlings’s idiot husband.”
Grady dropped the briefcase. “What?”
“You heard me.” With that, B.J. turned and
stomped out of the office, slamming the door behind her. Grady feared his heart might beat through his chest. But...damn. She loved him? B.J. loved him?
Giving his head a shake as if to clear it, he blinked once and then hurried after her.
“Wait! B.J.” He dashed from the office and soon realized that when his wife wanted to move, she moved fast.
Charging for the exit, he heard her diesel roar to life just as he pushed his way outside.
“B.J.,” he yelled, sprinting toward her truck. But she put the motor into gear and peeled out.
Changing directions, Grady ran for his own rig, muttering the entire time. “I swear to God, woman, if you get into a wreck and hurt yourself, I’m going to strangle you with my bare hands.”
He followed her, grateful she took dirt roads so he could trail the plumes of smoke she left in her wake. He would’ve lost her otherwise. Still...his heart beat hard against his chest, hoping she remained safe and didn’t hurt herself. He was sweating buckets and breathing hard by the time he spotted her truck parked and landed in one piece, sitting just outside the cemetery. If she’d gotten herself into a wreck before he’d caught her, he didn’t think he could have handled it. He didn’t think he could lose a second woman he loved in such an abrupt manner.
Parking behind her Dodge, Grady let the pent-up air out of his lungs as he killed the engine. Inside 229
the limestone walls, B.J. sat on her knees in front of Amy’s grave and bent over double, holding her stomach as she wept.
“Damn it, B.J.,” he whispered and clenched his teeth. “You just have to make this as hard as you possibly can, don’t you?”
Refusing to think about it further, he pushed open his truck door and slid out. She didn’t even notice his approach as he entered the gate and started for her.
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed, crying so intensely she squeezed her eyes closed. “I’m so sorry, Amy.”
Though he’d been fearing what watching his
second wife stand over his first wife’s grave would do to his emotions, it strangely didn’t affect him as he’d thought it would. Instead of feeling injustice and anger over Amy’s absence, all he wanted was to go to B.J. and gather her into his arm, to take her away and dry her tears with his kisses.
“I never meant to sleep with your husband,” she swore. “I never...I never meant for all this—”
“You know I’m not her husband anymore, don’t you?” He stepped closer as she gasped and whirled to face him. “I’m yours.”