He pulled into the parking lot and glanced around until he located her car. He took an available spot a few spaces down and slid out of his truck. She’d obviously decided to head on inside since her vehicle was empty. He was pathetically grateful for the small reprieve before facing her. To say she was going to be livid would be an understatement. Judging by her reaction to meeting Lydia at his house on Sunday, she would probably go postal over the wedding news.
A big part of him still wondered if he should be going forward with this deception—because that’s what it was. Lydia, out of the goodness of her heart, had agreed to help him, and even though he’d put up some token protests, he’d still jumped at the opportunity. He’d lain awake most of last night thinking about her. He hadn’t been able to get the last time he’d touched her in Vegas out of his head. He wondered what her reaction would be if she knew he’d jacked off to the memory of going down on her for the first time. The sounds of her moans still filled his head. What he wouldn’t give to taste her again.
“You’re late,” said an annoyed voice. To his chagrin, he jumped as Chris glared down at her watch.
“Sorry,” he offered, not really meaning it. He’d probably wasted what amounted to a year of his life by now waiting for her when she was late dropping off Casey, so he didn’t feel any remorse for keeping her waiting. The hostess led them to a relatively quiet table in the corner and Jacob automatically held out Chris’s chair for her. They both remained quiet until they’d ordered. He had a burger and she had some kind of salad with the dressing on the side. It reminded him of dinner with Lydia and Casey at Johnny Rockets. He’d been thrilled to see a woman actually eating a hearty meal. He loved her soft curves and womanly figure. Chris was even thinner than she’d been the first time they met, and she’d been too skinny then. Most men would certainly consider her attractive, and apparently, he’d been one of them since he slept with her. But if you looked below the surface, it was all superficial. She was the type that never left the house without being perfectly dressed with flawless makeup. There was no way she’d have been lying on her stomach at an aquarium petting stingrays with her daughter.
He caught her giving him a calculating look before she carefully schooled her expression. “So what’s the occasion?” she asked casually. “We don’t normally meet alone for a meal.”
It was then he saw it. She thought she had him. She figured this whole lunch was about him throwing in the towel and caving to her demands. You’re in for such a disappointment, sweetheart. He took a drink of his water and wished belatedly that he’d ordered a beer. Something to be said for liquid courage. Clearing his throat, he began, “I wanted to talk to you today while Casey was in school. She’s seen you and me argue far too much, and I refuse to keep doing it.” He could see by the frown on her face that the importance of his words was sinking in. He wouldn’t have said what he had if he’d been planning to marry her.
“Get to the point,” she bit out stiffly, looking as if she wouldn’t mind an alcoholic beverage herself.
Here goes. Brace for impact. “The woman you met at my home yesterday is actually my wife. Lydia and I were married—”
“What!” she hissed, all color draining from her face. “Your wife? How is that even possible?”
He winced as she ground her teeth together. She appeared to be approaching apocalyptic levels a lot faster than he’d imagined. People at nearby tables were already darting curious glances their way. Possibly this public meeting hadn’t been a good idea after all. “Lydia is my wife,” he inserted calmly. “And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t refer to her as a tramp again because I can assure you that she isn’t. I also must insist that you not say things like that around my daughter. You realize that she’s likely repeating that garbage at school, right?”
“Your wife!” she screeched yet again, bringing the conversations around them to a halt.
“Chris, lower your voice,” he instructed. “You’re making a spectacle of yourself.”
“I could give a fuck!” she snapped. “How dare you bring me here and unload something like this on me!” She leaned so far into the table her chest was sitting in her salad plate. He certainly didn’t have the nerve to point that out, though. She’d probably throw the damn thing if he brought it to her attention. “You know what, Jake, I don’t believe you,” she taunted. “I think you’re lying your ass off to get me off your back. What did you think—I’d just say, ‘Well, hey, congratulations to you both. I wish you all the best’?”
“A guy could hope,” he joked, then wiped the smile quickly off his face when her left eye began twitching. Wow, he’d always known she was tightly strung, but he was ready to call for an exorcist. He was afraid she’d climb on the table at any moment and attempt to stab him with her salad fork. And the profanity, that was another shocker. Obviously, she was fond of the word “tramp,” but the string of curse words she was muttering under her breath were new. As were the insults she was now heaping upon his mother. Holy hell. As he looked around to see the entire place riveted on them, he closed his eyes and took a breath. He had to get her out of here before they called the cops.
“Christine!” he said harshly. Thankfully, the tone of his voice instantly cut through her tirade, and she paused long enough for him to continue. “If you’ll stop for one moment, you’ll notice that anyone and everyone that you’ve ever wanted to impress are staring at you as if you’ve lost your mind. Now, I’m leaving before we are hauled out of here in handcuffs. I’d suggest that you do the same.” He saw the moment it hit her. Her cheeks turned a vivid shade of red, and she dropped her eyes to the linen tablecloth.
“You bastard,” she whispered. “This is all your fault. I’ve put six years into you and you go and marry some piece of trash off the street? We could have been a family. But nooo, you had to ruin everything.” Getting to her feet, she glared down at him as she attempted to brush the stain from the mixed greens from her silk top. “You’ll pay for this,” she threatened before turning to stalk off.