And Meg had accused her of not having any needs. What a joke.
After Tim and Meg had passed out of sight, Niall stopped on the side of the road and let out a sob of pure misery. She didn’t know how long she stood like that, bawling her eyes out with only thousands and thousands of foot-high corn stalks as her witness, but it was twilight by the time she started walking down the road again. Unfortunately, her cry had done her no good. The graphic memory of Vic kissing that woman kept her right in the center of her emotional storm.
It took her a minute to realize that the low heels of her sandals were sinking slightly into the heated blacktop. She hissed a furious curse when she lifted a foot and saw that the tarlike substance stuck to her shoes. She’d never get the damn stuff off!
When she heard a car coming down the road behind her, she moved off to the side. The gravel at the periphery of the road adhered to her sticky sandals. Tears of sheer frustration slipped down her flushed cheeks.
It took her a few seconds to realize that the vehicle had slowed and stopped next to her. She glanced to her right warily. Vic was staring down at her from the cab of his dark blue pickup truck.
“What’re you doing?” he asked in equal parts irritation and puzzlement.
Niall gritted her teeth as she swiped at her wet cheeks. Great, this was just great. “Leave me alone. I’m taking a walk.”
He grunted incredulously. “It’s ninety degrees plus, and it’s getting dark. You’re wearing high heels.”
“So?” Niall asked furiously. Why the hell did everyone have to keep mentioning her shoes? She paused to try and pry off the widening patch of gummy gravel on her left heel with her right toe. The clod came off her heel and stuck on her other sandal. She kicked her foot in mounting irritation.
“Get in the truck. I’ll take you back to the farm.”
“No,” Niall stated emphatically, refusing to look at him as he stared down at her.
“Get in the goddamned truck, Niall,” Vic growled when she sprinted forward several steps, trying to ignore the fact that it felt like she was walking through glue.
Without pause she suddenly did an about-face and circled around the back of Vic’s truck. What the hell? Why should she care if Vic saw her at her emotional worst? He was the one who was responsible for it, after all.
Her tears cooled when they came into contact with the frigid interior of Vic’s air-conditioned cab. Before she shut the door, she sat sideways in her seat and removed her ruined sandals. She glared at him after she resoundingly slammed her door shut, glad to see that he looked as angry as she was. Her rage required an outlet and a calm, reasonable man wouldn’t have supplied it.
“Where’s your girlfriend?” she asked sourly as she jerked her seat belt with unnecessary force.
Vic leaned forward, his forearms on the wheel, and studied her. His face looked dark and ominous in the shadows of the truck, reminding Niall of a storm that was about to break.
“I don’t owe you any explanations.”
“Then what are you doing here?” she demanded hotly. Tears continued to course down her face, but she could have given a good goddamn at this point. “Why aren’t you carrying on with your parking lot romance?”
He grabbed the steering wheel tightly, as if he needed something to squeeze besides what he really wanted between his hands—her throat.
“Why aren’t you with your husband?” he countered, his gray eyes flashing.
“My ex-husband is in the Evergreen Park Mental Hospital, where he has been for nearly three and half years!” she shouted.
His head flew back several inches, as though she’d just slapped him. “Your ex-husband?” he repeated.
Niall swiped at her soaking cheeks in rising agitation. “Yeah, that’s right.”
“Why’d your mom say he was your husband back in December, then?”
Niall stared at him as she exhaled slowly. “Because Stephen still was my husband back in December, Vic. Technically speaking, that is.”
His eyes narrowed as though he were trying to focus on some place in her spirit to see if she was lying or not. He must have decided her depths were too dark to even attempt to read, because he abruptly put the truck into Drive and pulled onto the road.
“Obviously the technicalities don’t mean anything to you. But they mean a hell of a lot to me,” he said coldly as he stared straight ahead and drove.
“You have no right to judge me,” Niall stated through a throat choked with emotion.
She gasped when he braked so hard that her seat belt locked and her head flung forward, spilling her hair in her face. He turned toward her, muscles coiled like a big cat about to pounce.
“I have every right to judge you. You lied to me. Don’t you think most guys would want to know that the woman they were in a relationship with just happened to be married?” he thundered.
“Is that what you thought, Vic? That we were in a relationship?”
For several tense seconds neither of them took a breath. Niall could tell by the expression on his face that Vic hadn’t liked her question at all. She took advantage of his temporary discomposure.
Her eyes scoured his face, entreating him to respond from some place other than anger. Surely if he was this furious at her, it meant that he wasn’t completely immune to her. Didn’t it?
“Because the thing of it is,” she continued shakily, “neither one of us really ever spoke of it last year. I thought maybe for you it was just about the sex.”
“Who said it wasn’t?” he asked, his lips curling contemptuously.