“Yep,” I said. “She brought lasagna.” That was slightly bitchy of me to rub it in, I’ll admit. I’ll probably pay for it, one way or another.
Lindsay’s smile was only slightly forced. “Of course she brought lasagna. Enjoy. The woman is the best cook on the block, now that Michelle—I mean, Samantha makes everything from scratch. Me, I’m lucky if I don’t burn a frozen pizza.”
“Yeah, me too,” I admitted. Two neighbors. Two welcomes. And both had mentioned Michelle, Jon’s deceased wife. I was beginning to worry I had some insanely perfect shoes to fill.
We exchanged a smile. For some reason, regardless of her mention of Michelle, I had a feeling I might get along with this neighbor. The jury was still out on Samantha.
“Anyway, I guess I’ll head out now. I’m sure you’re both very”—Lindsay’s gaze paused on Jon’s crotch before jerking away—“busy.”
“Thanks for coming by.” Jon grabbed the doorknob, ready to close the door behind her.
“Oh!” On the porch now, Lindsay spun around to face him. She opened her mouth to say something but then shut it. “Yes.” She waved at me. “Again, welcome. If there’s anything you need, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Thanks.” I waved back.
Jon shut the door. He gave me a look that made my heart flutter. “Now, let’s get back to welcoming you home—”
Ding dong.
I sighed. “We might as well forget it. It’s not happening. I didn’t know you were so popular.” We’d met on an online dating site. Jon had flown out to meet me exactly one month after we’d started chatting online. And he’d made the trip every other weekend after that, for the next five months. I mentioned, once or twice, coming out to see him instead, but he’d insisted it was better for him to do the traveling. He could write it off as a business expense. I couldn’t. And once I got over the suspicion that he was actually married and trying to keep me from finding out, I couldn’t argue with that logic. All that to say, this was the first time I’d seen him in his hometown.
“I’m not ‘popular,’ ” he said. “My neighbors are all just extremely nosy. You’re the first woman who’s been in my house since ... since Michelle died.”
While our two visitors had already mentioned his wife, today was the first time Jon had actually said her name in my presence. I saw that as a sign. “Speaking of Michelle, you promised to tell me what happened when I moved in. So I knew how to handle Josh. Here I am.”
He started to respond, but the doorbell cut him off. He lifted an index finger.
Ding dong.
He opened the door to reveal yet another attractive woman. Stepford Wife Number Three was suited up tight in Hugo Boss, her hair coiled on the back of her head. Her makeup was flawless but understated.
“I’m sorry if this is a bad time... .” The woman, who was still standing on the front porch peered in at me. “... but I saw Samantha and Lindsay—”
“No, of course it’s not a bad time.” Jon motioned her inside. “This is Christine. Christine, this is Erica Ross. She lives next door—on the other side.” He motioned toward the opposite side of our home.
“Good to meet you,” I said.
“Welcome to the neighborhood,” Erica said, shaking my hand. She produced a card. “If you need anything, feel free to call. I work quite a bit, but my husband’s home with the kids during the day. Adam’s pretty handy—unlike Jon here.” Erica and Jon exchanged a smile.
“That’s true,” Jon admitted. “I won’t even try to argue with that. Which is why I have a list of trusted contractors on file.”
Erica continued, “Michelle used to call Adam whenever she had a minor emergency. Plugged sink, that kind of thing. He doesn’t mind at all. Gives him something to do.”
“Okay. Thanks.” I put the card in my pocket.
“Thank you,” Jon echoed, looking like he might shove the woman out if she didn’t leave on her own.
“I can’t stay,” Erica said, turning toward the exit. “I’m on my way to meet a client. But I didn’t want to go without at least saying hello.”
“That was very thoughtful. Thanks.” I gave her a wave as she hurried out the door.
Jon closed and locked the door behind her. “Okay, now that’s enough of the neighbors. I don’t give a damn if the mayor rings my doorbell to give you the keys to the city. I’m not answering. We’re going to our room.” He grabbed my hand and took the stairs two at a time. “I’m going to have sex with you if it kills me.”
Kills him? I wasn’t sure how to respond to that statement.
The truth of the matter was, the moment was over. Between worrying about being interrupted again, and curiosity about the wife Jon hadn’t talked about before today, I was more interested in getting back to the discussion we’d started before Erica’s entry.
Once we were inside the bedroom, Jon, true to form, went for my neck.
I held him off with outstretched hands. “Hang on, there, Dracula. I want to talk about Michelle first. How did she die?”
CHAPTER 2
“Okay,” Jon said, sitting on the bed. What do you want toto know about my first wife?”
Standing next to the door, I said, “Well, how she died, for starters.”
Jon nodded. Looking solemn, he patted the bed, inviting me to sit beside him. I did. “Michelle had a lot of issues. Emotional problems. Not many people knew. Not her friends. Not her parents. Not even Josh. Only her doctors and me. It started almost immediately after we were married. She seemed happy for a little while, maybe six months or so, but then my crazy work schedule got to her. She became lonely. Depressed. I suggested we start trying to have a child, and her mood picked up again.” His smile was wistful, sweet. “I thought we were going to be okay. But when she didn’t get pregnant right away, her depression came back. And it was worse. I suggested we give up, think about adopting to take the pressure off. She insisted we keep trying. So we saw a specialist. Had some tests run. Turns out she had some kind of hormonal imbalance. She was given some pills and a few months later, she was pregnant.”
He hadn’t gotten to the part about her dying, but I was willing to be patient. This was, by far, the most words I’d heard Jon speak consecutively since meeting him. He wasn’t the chit-chatty kind.