If Only You Knew Read online

  "You didn't ask," J.V. replied with a frown.

  Betsy returned her husband's frown with one of her own before turning to Anna May. "I apologize for interrupting your honeymoon."

  "No need to apologize," Ric replied with a smile.

  Betsy looked at Ric then J.V. and shook her head. "I remember my own honeymoon, and I don't think I'd have appreciated having it interrupted by two old geezers." Turning her attention to Anna May, she said. "I apologize again for the interruption."

  "Thank you, Betsy," she said.

  "Now where's our waiter? I don't know about you, but I'm starving," she said with a smile.

  After their waiter had taken their orders, Betsy asked, "So how did you meet?"

  "We met when we were in high school," Ric said.

  "Oh, were you high school sweethearts?"

  "Oh, no," Anna May said. "We were best friends. Besides Ric had all the girls after him in high school."

  "Sounds like my J.V. He always had girls running after him," she said giving her husband a teasing look.

  "But I knew as soon as I met Betsy, she was the one for me." J.V. took his wife's hand in his own and squeezed it. His love for her was plain to see.

  Anna May looked away from the older couple, her heart filled with longing. She wanted Ric to look at her like that ... with love. Maybe he would one day.

  "How long have you been married?" Anna May asked.

  "It will be forty-two years this June," Betsy answered.

  "Congratulations. That's quite an accomplishment," Anna May said.

  "Not really, young lady," J.V. said. "Betsy and I decided we were going to stay married no matter what and that's what we did. That's not an accomplishment, that's sheer stubbornness. Sometimes stubbornness is what keeps your marriage from falling apart."

  "We told all five of our children to be ready to give marriage their all because in today's world, marriage is so easily torn apart if both people aren't totally and completely committed to the union." Betsy squeezed J.V.'s hand.

  Anna May breathed a sigh of relief when the waiter served the appetizers. She felt as if the words "fraud," "fake," and "phony" were plastered on her chest like a scarlet letter. In the face of the Dickersons' loving marriage, her marriage seemed like quartz compared to the Hope diamond.

  As the evening wore on, Anna May felt her deception bearing down on her like a physical weight. The couple spoke freely about their children and were very proud of their eight grandchildren. Betsy showed them a photograph of their youngest grandchild. "This is Jasmine," she said beaming with pride.

  "She's adorable," Anna May replied as she looked at the picture of the infant dressed in a pink ruffled dress with a matching hair bow. "She looks like you."

  "Do you think so?" she asked, her smile deepening.

  Ric leaned over to look at the photograph. He studied the picture then looked at Betsy and said, "She definitely looks like you."

  "Are you planning on having a family?" she asked.

  "Give them time, Betsy. They just got married," J.V. said.

  "We plan on having a child soon," Ric said then turned to her and smiled. Anna May felt her heart race at the sight of his tender expression. He's just trying to impress his clients, she told herself. It isn't real. But her heart refused to listen to her head, and the love she'd tried so hard to contain bubbled to the surface.

  "I think it's time for us to leave, Betsy," J.V. laughed.

  Ric smiled and said, "I think you're right, J.V. It's time for us to leave."

  Evan Wilson watched the two couples from across the dining room. His dinner lay untouched on his plate. Anger and rage had destroyed his appetite. Ric Justice was the cause. He looked so much like his father that he thought he was seeing a ghost when he was escorted to his table, but the man at the table was flesh and blood. The seed of his enemy.

  Trevor Justice had been smarter and more handsome than him while growing up, and he'd hated him for it. The Wilson family had money to buy the best. As a teenager, Evan thought he could buy his way above the Justice reputation, but his plan had backfired, and he became known as the snobby, rich boy.

  But he'd gotten his revenge of sorts. When Trevor died in Vietnam, he married his wife, the woman who'd chosen Trevor over him years ago and made her sorry she'd ever married his enemy. He'd sent Trevor's son to live with his crazy grandmother. If he could have gotten away with it, he would have sent the boy to a workhouse when the old woman died, but Trevor's family had taken the boy in.

  The boy was now a man. A very powerful man who could take away his company without blinking.

  "Sir? Was the food not to your liking? I can take this back and get you something else if you prefer? Was there something else you'd like?" the waiter said when he looked at Evan's full plate.

  What he'd like, Evan thought to himself, is to get rid of Ric Justice. Instead he told the waiter to bring him the menu and he'd choose another entrée.

  Adam had him banned from entering his own company. Adam was in for a surprise if he thought he could keep him out. There were several men and women at the company who owed him favors. He'd call in a favor, and soon he'd be back in business. What his son didn't realize was people were afraid to lose their jobs, and all he had to do was hint that he could save their jobs and they'd be putty in his hands.

  His son had a lot to learn, he thought with a frown. Just because he'd been paid didn't mean he was totally abandoning the company. He still had a few good years left in him, and with his leadership and his son's energy, they could make Wilson and Wilson a strong company again.

  He watched as the young woman at his side looked at Justice. She loved him. It was plain to see. Anger boiled inside him. He couldn't let Justice win. It would be like his father winning again.

  Somehow, someway he'd find a way to stop Ric Justice. Studying the woman, Evan began to smile as an idea came to mind. Maybe the way to stop Justice was sitting next to him. Evan made a note to find out who the woman was and how he could use her to destroy the man.

  "Thank you for coming tonight," Ric said when they'd arrived home. They'd driven to his office to pick up her car, and he'd followed her on the drive home. He dreaded the confrontation with Anna May. She'd been quiet on the short drive to his office, but he was sure that wouldn't be the case when they got home.

  "What?" she asked.

  "Thank you for having dinner with the Dickersons. We didn't talk about this before we got married. I'll try not to get you involved with my business plans again," he said as they hung their coats in the closet.

  She looked at him in surprise. "I didn't have a problem going to dinner with your client. It was the short notice I had a problem with. I know I'll have to attend business and social functions with you just as you'll have to attend some of my business functions. We're no longer single individuals, we're a couple." She closed the closet door and started up the stairs.

  "A couple," he said softly as he followed her, surprised and relieved that she wasn't still angry. He'd spent the ride home worrying for nothing. She wasn't mad with him. "A couple," he said again. They were a couple, he thought. He supposed in time he would get used to the idea, even if it was only temporary.

  "A couple. You know—like Fred and Ethel, Claire and Cliff. Ric and Anna May."

  "Ward and June," he added.

  "Yeah, but I'm not cleaning house wearing a dress and a strand of pearls." Pausing at the door to the bedroom, she added, "Tell me what you think of the room."

  Ric walked in the bedroom. It was the same yet not the same. The sweet smell of flowers greeted him when he entered the room. Large white candles left over from last night were grouped on one of the nightstands beside the bed. A vase full of fresh flowers and Anna May's favorite crystal clock sat on the other. Little items which if looked at separately wouldn't have made a difference, but on the whole made the room seem more welcoming. More like a home where people lived than a very fancy place to sleep.

  "Do you like it?" she a
sked.

  Ric turned to her. "I like it."

  "Good," she said with a smile.

  Her smiled faltered when he loosened the knot of his tie and slid it off. "So what did you think of the Dickersons?" he said turning his back to hide his smile.

  "They seem like nice people," she said inching her way to the walk-in closet.

  He removed his suit jacket and joined her at the closet door, blocking her means of escape. His heart turned at the sight of her soft, feminine dresses hanging neatly next to his wool-blend suits. Deliberately brushing against her, he reached for a hanger. "I don't think of J.V. as nice. I've had too many business dealings with him to consider him nice. Fair but not nice."

  Slipping her shoes off her feet, she placed them on the floor along with her other shoes, which were in a neat line. "I guess my view of him is different because I saw him as a family man."

  "I never thought of him as a family man," he said placing the jacket on the hanger. "He always seemed in control to me."

  "What does control have to do with family?"

  "You lose control when you have a family. Your life is not your own," he said.

  "When were you not in control tonight?" She tilted her head to the side and studied him.

  Ric frowned. She'd neatly trapped him with his own words. At no time tonight had he felt out of control, and she was his wife. His family.

  "I wasn't," he said grudgingly.

  "That's what I like about you, Ric. You always admit when you're wrong." She smiled at him and patted his cheek.

  "It's only fair. Especially since this is the first time I've ever made a mistake."

  She rolled her eyes. "Right. Let me out of here. There's not enough room for the three of us. You, me, and your ego." She placed her hand on his chest as if to push him away.

  He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into his embrace. "Is there enough room for you and me?"

  Her expression softened at his words. "Maybe," she said shyly.

  "I am right about one thing," he said.

  "What?"

  "I have a very beautiful wife."

  "Oh, yeah?" she said as she laid her head on his shoulders.

  "Yeah."

  "You know what else?" he asked.

  "What?"

  "We need to get you out of that dress. Now."

  Anna May stepped out of his embrace and slowly slid the zipper of her dress down its track.

  The temperature in the closet seemed to have elevated by the time she stepped out of her dress. Ric swallowed the lump in his throat at the sight of her partially clad body. The black strapless bra made her breasts seem fuller. He watched in anticipation as she breathed in and out, sure that the slips of satin couldn't contain their bounty. The matching black panties shielded her femininity from view, but it was the thigh-high sheer black stockings that nearly sent him over the edge.

  Ric reached out, touching her shoulders, then slid his hand down her arm to take her hand. Raising their joined hands, he kissed her wrist just below her palm. The rapid tempo of her pulse pounded beneath his lips and the seductive smell of perfume enveloped him like a sweet caress. Slowly he placed kiss after soft kiss up her arm to her elbow before placing her hand on his shoulder.

  His chest grew tight when he saw her face. Her cheeks were flushed with passion and her lips were parted as she struggled to catch her breath.

  "Anna May," he whispered before he lowered his head. He kissed her lips over and over again with gentle loving kisses. He teased and taunted her until she let her dress slip to the floor. Cupping his head with her hand and pressing her body against his, she kissed him with all the passion she had inside her. Her tongue slipped between his parted lips to taste his passion. She groaned in protest when he ended the kiss.

  "Yes," she replied breathlessly. "Ric, don't stahh ..." Her soft moan echoed as he kissed her neck, her shoulder, the soft swell of her breast.

  "I won't," he said unhooking her bra and peeling away the satin material. Leaning forward, he traced her nipple with his tongue. Her moans grew more frantic when he kneeled before her, forging a trail of kisses down her chest and stomach.

  His body was on fire and her moans were as arousing as her touch. He rubbed his cheek against her belly. "Do you like this?" he whispered.

  "How about this?" He felt her stiffen as he touched her belly button with his tongue.

  Her sob was all the answer he needed. He kissed her stomach again, then rose to his feet. Bending down, he lifted her in his arms and carried her to his bed.

  Ric stared into the darkness of the night. There was no need for him to close his eyes. Thick drapes prevented light from entering the bedroom. He was tired and he should have been.

  He'd turned to Anna May over and over again during the night. It was as if he couldn't get enough of her, and making love to her had left his body completely satisfied. But what she'd said about family kept niggling away in the back of his mind, keeping him awake.

  For as long as he could remember, family meant betrayal. It meant being at the mercy of someone else's whims, yet tonight Anna May had accomplished what neither his aunt and uncle nor his acquaintances had been able to do. She'd challenged and shaken his perception of family and control. She'd dropped what she was doing to have dinner with one of his clients. She'd been there for him when she had no obligation to do so. Behaving exactly the opposite of what he'd come to expect from family. Instead, she'd done what she'd always done. Been his friend.

  But she was more than his friend, she reminded him that she was family now. Should he believe that she would never betray him like his family had done in the past? He'd known her for almost twenty years, and in that time she'd never done anything to make him doubt her. He trusted her with his life, but could he trust her with his very heart? His soul?

  Chapter 11

  The next two weeks Ric worked long hours at his office. While the deal with J.V. Dickerson was coming to a close, two other projects required his attention. In the past the long hours wouldn't have bothered him, but he found himself looking at his clock at various times during the day, eager to go home—to be with his wife.

  His impression of Anna May had changed. She was still his best friend, but as a wife she was warm and caring. He never realized how much he looked forward to having dinner with her after a long day. Although she'd eaten her dinner earlier, she would sit at the table with him and ask how his day went, sharing amusing stories from her office. His life had been so quiet before she came to live with him. Now he'd grown accustomed to the sound of music playing while she relaxed in the den reading a book, the sight of her perfume bottle next to his aftershave lotion, and her hurried dash around the bedroom as she dressed for work each morning.

  As he made the long drive from his office to his home, he wondered how he would handle the tomblike quiet when she left. She would leave despite the fact that she'd left her mark on nearly every room in the house. She would leave and he didn't want her to go.

  A sliver of moonlight shone through the bare limbs of the pecan trees that lined either side of the narrow lane leading to his home. His home. He no longer had just a house. He had someone who cared about him. Anna May had made his house a home.

  He was concerned when he entered his home. It was quiet. Anna May liked to have noise in the house when she was alone.

  "Anna May," he called out as he walked from the kitchen to the den. Silence was his only response. The tension in his body subsided when he entered the room. She lay asleep on the sofa, covered with a patchwork quilt he recognized as a gift from her grandmother. He glanced at the clock on the mantel. It was nine o'clock.

  She must be really tired, he thought, as he looked at her. Her sleep wasn't peaceful if the frown on her face was any indication. He touched her shoulder gently and said, "Anna May."

  Slowly she opened her eyes. They were red and puffy as if she'd been crying.

  "Oh, hi," she said slurring her words.

  He frowne
d when he saw her wince as she sat up.

  "What's wrong?" he asked.

  "I don't feel good. My period started today."

  "Oh," he said as varying emotions made their way to the surface. He felt relieved that she wasn't pregnant, and they'd have to make love again to create a child. However the sight of her pain made him wish he could make it disappear. "Can I get you anything? An aspirin?"

  She shook her head. "No, I took my prescription earlier this evening. It makes me sleepy."

  "Why don't you go to bed?" he said watching her eyes slowly drift closed.

  "Okay," she said without moving.

  "Anna May, do you need help? Can you make it up the stairs?"

  With seemingly great difficulty, she opened her eyes again. "I can make it up the stairs." Moving the quilt to the side, she slowly rose from the sofa. She gasped in pain when she tried to stand up straight.

  "The hell you can," he said as she stood slightly bent at the waist with her hand over her stomach. He took off his suit jacket and laid it on the sofa. Sliding his arms beneath her knees and her shoulders, he lifted her in his arms.

  "I'm too heavy for you," she protested, her voice heavy with sleep.

  "No, you're not. You're just right," he said as he walked out of the room.

  She'd fallen asleep before he reached the bedroom. He laid her gently on the bed, then placed the cover over her. She turned on her side with her knees bent. A faint line formed between her brows. Sitting on the bed, he gently traced the line before leaning down to kiss her brow. She turned into his touch and her frown disappeared. Stroking her cheek, he listened to the steady cadence of her breathing.

  Was she going to be in this much pain every month? Why didn't the medicine stop the pain? he wondered as he watched her sleep. He tried to remember what she'd told him about her condition, but he didn't remember her mentioning anything about being in pain. His jaw tightened with determination. He was definitely going to find out more about her condition. Stroking her cheek one last time, he rose to his feet and noticed a brown medicine bottle on the nightstand. He picked it up and read the label before returning the bottle to the nightstand. According to the instructions, she'd take another pill sometime tonight. He walked downstairs to the kitchen and filled a glass with cold water. He'd planned on spending an hour working in his office, but he wasn't going to work tonight. Anna May needed him tonight and he was going to be there for her. With the glass of water in his hand, he turned out the lights in the kitchen and walked up the stairs.