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“So is coming down with the flu, but I don’t want to experience that either.”
“And when you get the flu, you ride it out, do what the doctor tells you, which reminds me . . .” He lifted his bottle for a swallow, throat flexing. “What did Alice say? Because you didn’t text me.”
“My hormone levels are fine. My bloodwork is normal. There’s nothing physically wrong.” She grimaced, fingering the sore spot on the inside of her elbow where the tech had drawn two vials of blood. “So it’s all psychological.”
“Okay.”
She bristled. Holy Mother, did he always have to be so reasonable? “Lamar, if you use the word ‘okay’ in reference to this situation once more—”
“What are you going to do?” He actually grinned, and annoyance buzzed along her skin.
“This is not humorous.”
“I agree, but it won’t last forever and it’s not the end of the world.” Setting his bottle aside, he grasped the edge of the counter with both hands, tendons flexing in his forearms. “It’s not the end of us, either.”
Her gaze flew to his, and she swallowed, startled at his articulation of her deepest fear.
“And you had best not be thinking it could be.” He shook his head, mouth pressed to a stern, grim line. “Because there’s no way.”
Unable to parry that, she gazed at him. If anything, his mouth grew tighter.
“Caitlin.”
“I’m not living there.” She waved a dismissive hand. “My father was a serial adulterer—”
“Don’t you dare.”
“I’m not.” She wound her hands together in her lap, knuckles grinding with the pressure. “My brain is wired to find a worst-case scenario—”
“Not that one.”
“Fighting about it is not helpful.”
Silence vibrated between them, and he gave a sharp nod. “You’re right.”
“I know you wouldn’t.” She did. Integrity and faithfulness were hardwired into him. They wouldn’t be together otherwise — she wouldn’t be able to stand a dishonest or unfaithful man.
A softer quiet settled around them, and he relaxed his grip on the counter. “I have a game plan.”
“Of course you do.” Her voice trembled, his gaze sharpening on her face, and she pulled in a breath, summoning a smile for him. “Is there a list?”
“No.” Humor and affection softened his lips further, although his gaze remained serious. “We’ll talk about it later. How about I change so we can put the kid in his stroller and take these two nuts for a walk?”
Suspense? He said he had a game plan, then wanted to talk about it later? Holy Mother, she would smother him for real one day.
And he knew it, watching her with those dark eyes. She relaxed her painful grip on her hands and repressed a sigh. Deterring him from a plan was futile once he’d set on a course of action. “Of course.”
He took another swallow of water and smiled, that knowing expression that prickled under her skin. “Get the kid and let’s go then.”
The walk, coupled with time in the park, proved to be a positive idea, though, allowing Zeb to stretch his legs and Fisher to bound out some of his puppy energy. As always, the opportunity to be in the baby swing enchanted Lee, and his unfettered glee unwound some of the constant tension holding her hostage.
Playing with the dogs wound Tick down as well so they returned home more relaxed. In the garage, she lifted Lee from the stroller, and he rubbed his face against her shoulder, grumbling with hunger.
Tick curved a hand at her hip and leaned in to kiss her. “Go feed him while I take care of these two clowns. Once he’s had a bath, I’ll get supper going.”
The late supper on the pool deck after they put the baby to bed was a positive idea as well. Water goblet cool against her palm, Caitlin curled up on one end of the outdoor sofa. “Tell me about this game plan of yours.”
“Clarissa says you need to relax, right?” He stretched his arm along the back of the couch. “And Gene says I need to remind you what you like about me.”
