Ultimate Cedar Cove Collection

Roy mulled that over and nodded. “It’s been over a year since Russell died,” he said. “If nothing’s happened in all this time, then perhaps nothing will.”

“Perhaps,” Troy Davis returned.

But his tone of voice convinced Roy the sheriff didn’t believe it. For that matter, neither did he.

Over the last few months, he’d come to like Bob and Peggy. He’d consider it a personal affront if his friend turned up dead.

* * *

Rosie waited anxiously until she heard the rat-a-tat-tat on the apartment door. Leaping up from the sofa, she hurried to answer it. She was halfway across the living room when the door opened and Zach stepped inside.

As if it’d been weeks since she’d last seen him, Rosie flew into his embrace. Zach wrapped his arms around her waist, half lifting her from the floor. Not a second passed before his mouth found hers. Their kisses were deep and urgent, reminiscent of their college days. The spark that had been missing during the last few years of their marriage was back—and bright enough to start a fire.

When Zach set her feet on the carpet again, Rosie’s head was spinning with desire. Forgotten was her intent to discuss so many of the pressing issues that clamored for attention. Instead, all she could think about was the warmth of his touch and the need he created within her.

“Don’t you think meeting like this is a little ridiculous?” she murmured.

“Do you?”

“No.” She rose to her tiptoes and kissed him.

Zach kissed her back and all too soon they were in the bedroom—his bedroom. Two days earlier, they’d ended up in hers, and the time before that they hadn’t even made it to a bed.

“We’re supposed to talk,” Rosie reminded him in the aftermath of their lovemaking. Her head rested against his naked shoulder. They were sprawled on top of the bedcovers, with her arm draped across his waist.

“I know, but when I see you the last thing I feel like doing is talking.”

Rosie understood perfectly. She was as hungry for Zach as he was for her.

“Did you tell the kids where you were going?” she asked, a little embarrassed that their children might have guessed they’d turned the apartment into a love nest. Even the old-fashioned term made her wince.

Zach chuckled. “You’re joking, right?”

Rosie sighed and rubbed her cheek against his chest, loving the warm feel of his skin. Closing her eyes, she inhaled Zach’s scent—distinctively his and almost enough to arouse her all over again. “I think it’s important that we talk, though.”

“I do, too,” Zach agreed, “but unfortunately I can’t seem to keep my hands off you.”

Rosie had to admit she liked this resurgence of their love life—liked it a lot. As for wasting their precious time at the apartment in bed, well, she didn’t have any complaints.

“The kids aren’t blind, you know,” Zach said as his hand made slow, lazy circles on the small of her back. “They have a fairly good idea who I’m sneaking out to see.”

“Allison said as much,” Rosie told him.

“Okay, so the kids are in favor of our reconciliation,” Zach said, sounding serious, “but are we?”

“How do you mean?”

“Are we ready to get back together? Should we? I love you, Rosie, and you love me. I’ve always loved you, but even now I don’t understand how two people who genuinely love each other could let themselves get divorced.”

Rosie nodded. “I made a lot of mistakes,” she said soberly.

“So did I,” Zach was quick to admit. “I don’t want to rehash everything we did wrong, but on the other hand, I’m not willing to ignore what happened and then repeat our mistakes.”

“I feel the same way.” The thought of going through that terrible tension again was intolerable. She couldn’t live like that, and she knew Zach couldn’t, either. Nor could they inflict this nightmare on their children a second time.

“I’d like to continue teaching,” Rosie said. Her contribution to their problems had to do with the fact that she’d volunteered for absolutely every committee, group, field day and task force that came up. She’d developed a reputation as the consummate volunteer, the woman who couldn’t say no.

Before the divorce, she had commitments and obligations that took her away from the house most days and every night of the week. It had started when Zach was so busy preparing tax returns. She was lonely and looking for a social outlet, a way to be part of the community. Her volunteering had grown into a time-consuming monster that had threatened to destroy her and her family.

“I always wanted to be the perfect wife and mother,” she whispered, saddened by the memory of her failings.

Zach kissed the top of her head. “I know.”

“Then I got so caught up in everything, I wasn’t any kind of mother at all.”

“Hey, I’m not going to listen to you beat yourself up,” Zach said. “Especially when I was doing plenty wrong myself.”

His hold on her tightened slightly. “You didn’t wreck our marriage single-handedly, Rosie. I let my ego replace common sense. You were right about Janice Lamond, but I was too blind to see what she was doing.”

“I was so jealous,” Rosie confessed.

“So was I, especially when you started dating that widower.”

She didn’t know Zach had been jealous. The warm glow it gave her was childish, but she basked in the feeling, anyway. “Like I told you, we only went out that once.”

“I thought it was much more, and it confused the hell out of me.” He laughed softly and continued to stroke her back. “We were supposed to be divorced, and yet the thought of you going out with another man had me seeing red.”

Rosie loved it. “Well, you can imagine how I felt when we were married and I thought you were involved with another woman. Jealous doesn’t even begin to describe it.”

“It’s not going to happen again,” he promised her.

“I won’t get caught up in volunteering again, either,” she said. “Maybe the occasional short-term thing, but that’s it. I know how to set boundaries now.” She took a deep breath. “I’ve also discovered that I like teaching—I’d forgotten how much. The hours are great with the kids’ schedules, and when I return at the end of the day, I appreciate my home and family.”

“I’ll help around the house more,” he vowed.

“Good.” That had been another of their problems. Because she was supposed to be a stay-at-home mother, Zach—and the children, too—had come to rely on her to do everything, to fulfill every need, to be the perfect housekeeper, cook, fixer, scheduler, chauffeur and hostess. To be responsible for everything on the domestic front, in other words.

“I can make dinner two nights a week,” Zach told her. “I’ve learned a lot from the cooking channel.”

“I can handle getting dinner ready another three,” she said. Now that Rosie had more time, she’d found out she actually enjoyed cooking.

“Allison’s learned a thing or two about helping out in the kitchen,” Zach said. “I think she’d like being in charge of one dinner a week.”

“That leaves us with only one night open,” she said, thinking that perhaps they could trade off on it.

“One night a week for you and me to go on a date,” Zach said firmly.

“A date?”