Kate curled the ends of his hair with her finger. It had never been long enough to do this before, and she liked the extra length. He brushed his hand through her hair, his fingers sifting through the strands, the way he always had. She nearly sighed.
It was as if nothing had changed between them. Kate knew that wasn’t true, but she wasn’t ready to back out of his arms.
For now she could pretend the past didn’t matter and ignore the future. She could do that because she needed Jared. She needed his warmth, his strength, him. And a part of her hoped he needed her, too.
He cupped her face with his left hand. She noticed the gold band on his fourth finger. Her ring finger felt conspicuously bare. She curled her hand into a fist.
“Mr. and Mrs. Reed?” a female voice asked.
Jared turned his head. “Yes?”
A cute brunette with short, curly hair and dangling gold earrings stood next to the receptionist’s desk.
Kate backed out of his embrace. “Actually I’m—”
“My wife. Kate Malone,” he interrupted, a slight edge to his voice. “I’m Jared Reed.”
Kate recalled the long discussions about her not taking his name. He had claimed to understand, to accept her decision. But he hadn’t. Not really. She shifted uncomfortably.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Malone. Mr. Reed.” The woman picked up a thick manila file from the receptionist’s desk. “Don Phillips is running a few minutes late. I’ll show you to his office once I drop off this folder.”
“Thank you,” Jared said.
As the woman walked away, Kate bit her lip. “Why didn’t you tell her the truth?”
“Because with or without your wedding band, you are still my wife.” His gaze hardened. “At least until the divorce is finalized.”
The receptionist led them down a hallway and motioned to an office at the end. “Don will be right with you.”
“Thanks.” Jared hoped the atmosphere in the office would be more comfortable than that of the lobby. But knowing Kate, he wasn’t going to hold his breath.
The woman smiled. “Let me know if you need anything.”
“We will.” He was tempted to ask the friendly receptionist to stay until the lawyer joined them. That might ease the tension between him and Kate. Not to mention the silence. Kate hadn’t spoken to him since he’d mentioned the word divorce. His jaw clamped. Maybe she’d forgotten she was the one who filed.
No. That wasn’t fair.
She’d lost her best friend and goddaughter. She was in tremendous pain. Who knew what was going through her beautiful, blond head?
Kate sat in one of the chairs opposite a large mahogany desk. With a posture that would make a charm school proud, she looked poised and in control as she studied the diploma hanging behind the desk. Not surprising really. Kate kept her emotions under a tight lid, and hated showing any sign of weakness.
Or at least had until today when she entered the law office on the verge of tears. She had looked so lost and alone. The sadness on her face had clawed at his heart.
Jared sat in the chair next to her and extended his hand. “You okay?”
She nodded once, not meeting his gaze. Maybe she didn’t see his hand, either.
At least he’d tried. Jared rested his arm on the chair. No one could say he hadn’t tried to save his marriage or hadn’t wanted to give the relationship another go. He had, and he would. If she would give him the chance.
Ironic, Jared thought. Brady and Susan had introduced him to Kate. Now their deaths were bringing them back together after almost three months apart.
The seconds turned into minutes. The only sound was the ticking of a vintage Felix the Cat clock. At least one thing hadn’t changed since the last time he saw Kate. The same stone-cold silence. They had been in Boise three months ago for Cassidy’s baptism. The weekend hadn’t gone well. Separation and divorce had been mentioned, but he hadn’t expected the call from her lawyer the next week. Ever since then lawyers had handled the communication between them. And that seemed…strange. Wrong. Yet Kate wouldn’t consider another option. He brushed his hand through his hair. “Kate—”
“There’s a reason I’m not wearing my wedding rings.”
Uh-oh. Jared drew a cautious breath. Words and actions could easily be misconstrued with emotions running so high. He and Kate were both hurting enough, but he couldn’t deny how seeing her ringless finger had affected him. “You don’t owe me any explanations.”
“I was afraid the ring would fall off,” she said anyway, still not meeting his eyes. “I lost some weight.”
More than “some” by the way she’d felt in his arms. She’d felt thinner, fragile. He’d chalked it up to grief. Now he wasn’t so sure.
Kate never went out without looking perfect—hair, makeup, clothing. She called it the “whole package”, even though she looked as beautiful to him in ratty, old sweats, a stained T-shirt and ponytail. Today, however, Kate looked as if she’d had to work harder on the package. And he could see the difference.
The energetic, multitasking dynamo, who owned one of the hottest and fastest growing public relation firms in the Pacific Northwest, had all but disappeared. Jared expected to see Kate’s normally bright blue eyes red and swollen given the circumstances, but not so wary, stressed, exhausted. Her sunken cheeks and loose fitting designer clothes went beyond grief, and the changes worried him.
“You need to remember to eat,” he said.
“I eat.”
He raised an eyebrow.
She set her chin. “I just forget sometimes.”
Most of the time. Jared used to text message her at lunchtime and dinnertime. Now that he wasn’t around to remind her, she probably didn’t bother to eat a decent meal. “You should schedule food into your day.”
“I do,” she said, a little too quickly. “Do you?”
“I don’t need to. I enjoy food too much to skip meals.”
“I don’t skip meals. I forget.” Her mouth twitched. “I don’t want to argue.”
She never did anymore. The only place Jared had seen Kate really lose control was in bed. “We’re not arguing.”
“Just drop it. Okay?”
He checked the time. The second hand moved slower than his niece’s turtle, Corky.
“Sorry to keep you waiting.” A middle-aged man, wearing a tailored navy suit and wire-rimmed glasses, burst into the office. “I’m Don Phillips, the Lukas’s attorney.”
Jared rose and shook the man’s hand. “Jared Reed.”
Kate remained seated. “Kate Malone.”
The lawyer sat behind his desk, and Jared sat, too.
“I’m so sorry for the loss of your friends,” Don said. “It’s such a tragedy.”
Jared nodded. Kate placed her clasped hands on her lap.
“Thank you for coming so quickly.” Don reached for a file. “I’d hoped to speak with you personally when I called yesterday, but under the circumstances I felt it was imperative to get you to Boise as soon as possible.”
“We understand,” Jared said. “Have funeral arrangements been made?”
“Yes.” Don pulled out a piece of paper from the file. “Mr. Lukas, Brady’s father,