“I hope you told them it was none of their business.”
“Kind of.”
“Kind of?” He sounded angry. Which startled her. She’d expected surprise, annoyance, even amusement, maybe. But not anger. Not when she hadn’t told him the bad parts yet. This was going to be a lot harder than she’d envisioned on the drive over.
“Is that why Frida was acting so weird the next morning when I went in The Bistro to get coffee?”
Kitty nodded.
He didn’t say anything. He walked into the kitchen, so she followed him. He took a pan off the stove and set it aside on the counter. “We should eat before this gets cold.”
He wanted to eat?
“Steve, did you hear what I just said out there?”
“Sure, I heard you. It’s okay. I understand.” Gone was the flash of anger she’d witnessed out in the living room. It had been replaced with a wooden expression that she’d never seen on him before.
“What’s wrong, baby? How are you feeling right now?” she asked.
“Why the hell does everyone want to know how I feel?”
Kitty blinked. Where was this coming from? “What’s wrong with you? I’m only trying to make things better between us.”
“Why do you think things need to be better?” he shot back. “I think things are pretty fucking fantastic the way they are. Don’t you?”
“Considering you’re living here and I’m living with my father and soon-to-be stepmother and that we haven’t really talked in almost a week, I’d say no, things aren’t so fucking fantastic.”
“Maybe if we actually fucked, it would be.”
It was as if someone had taken a giant scooper and hollowed her out, taking all her organs with it. Breathe, Kitty, you have lungs in there somewhere.
He looked shocked by his own words. “God, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
“Maybe dinner isn’t such a good idea,” she whispered. “I’m not really hungry anymore.”
“Neither am I,” he said wearily.
What was happening to them? A week ago, they’d been perfectly happy. But maybe it had all been an illusion.
He had to love her.
But then, he didn’t really have to, did he?
CHAPTER SEVEN
The scene at The Harbor House’s private dining room made Steve’s palms grow damp. And not just because it was July. Today he was officially hosting the rehearsal dinner for Kitty’s father and his soon-to-be wife.
Sharon’s family had come into town this morning for tomorrow’s wedding. This included her two daughters: Ginny and her husband Greg, and Mallory and her husband Frank. Or was it the other way around? Whatever. They were a busy bunch. Between them, they had five kids, ranging from a month-old baby to a four-year-old. There was also a sister, a brother-in-law and a couple of assorted cousins. Kitty had arranged for a couple of her friends to stay at the house and watch the kids, which had earned her major points with Sharon.
Today was also Kitty’s thirty-sixth birthday and the anniversary of their first night together. He’d wanted to make today special. He’d made it special all right. The two of them had barely said three words to one another throughout dinner.
He glanced over to see her sipping a glass of wine, talking to Sharon’s sister. She looked incredibly beautiful tonight in the little black dress she’d worn just last month when they’d been here for a spontaneous romantic evening.
Everything had been going so well between them this past year. How had he managed to fuck it all up despite his best attempts to avoid just that?
Last night, he’d come close to telling her just how messed up he was. Instead, he’d clammed up and let her walk out the door. He could hear Joanna’s voice in his head telling him that unless he faced his greatest fears, he was doomed to repeat history. At the time, it had sounded like something out of a bad fortune cookie.
He’d put in a call to Joanna to ask for an emergency session today, but she still hadn’t gotten back to him. Some shrink she was. What if he was the type to jump off a bridge or something?