Chapter 4

She stood in the doorway and watched them. Her three men. Seth and Justin sat across from each other in their superhero pajamas, Justin in Iron Man, Seth in Superman. They had their noses buried in worksheets, Justin struggling with a simple crossword that forced him to define his spelling words for the week, and Seth with his math.

Steve sat at the head of the table, his laptop open and a stack of paperwork fanned out beside it. Every time his eyes moved over something at the top of the screen, it felt like he was looking at her. She studied his face, the angles so familiar that her hands could almost feel them against her palm. She remembered the first time she saw him. It was like this.

He moved in to a house across the street from where she lived the summer she was sixteen. She caught glimpses of him from time to time, saw him coming and going with his father, saw him playing basketball alone in the driveway. But it wasn't until school started again that fall that they really met.

It was in the library. He was at a table, a stack of books in front of him. She walked in, alone as she usually was then, glancing around the room for a quiet place to study. He looked up and it was as if he could see right through her. Like he could see what everyone else missed. She felt like he could see the part of her she kept hidden.

And she could see him, too.

But even that had changed.

Steve met her gaze, but all she saw was a thick, impenetrable wall behind his sexy blue eyes.

"Are you going to help out here?"

Irritation dripped from his words as he jerked his head toward Seth. Seth was watching Emma, too, frustration clear in the awkward set of his jaw.

"I can't figure it out," he said.

Emma took a deep breath and nodded, climbing into the chair beside him. "Show me what you don't understand, sweetheart."

***

Emma was lying in bed, reading Gone With the Wind for the tenth time. Steve came from the bathroom, his chest still dotted with water droplets from his shower.

"Did you meet with the contractor?"

She nodded.

"How much is that going to cost?"

"Somewhere around thirty."

"Thirty thousand?"

Emma lay the heavy book on her chest. "Yes."

"Emma"

"You spent four times that much on that car, so don't tell me it's too much."

"I wasn't going to." He sat with his back to her and turned to fluff his pillows. "It's not the cost so much as it is the noise and the intrusion. They're going to have to knock a hole into the wall of the kitchen."

"I know that."

"How are we supposed to cook for the six months it's going to take?"

"I'll figure it out."

Steve lay back, glancing at her as he did. "You'll figure it out?"

"Yes."

She lifted her book again, searching for the sentence where she left off when he reached over and pulled it out of her hands. "You're pissed at me," he said.

She sat up, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm getting there."

"Why?"

Emma laughed, but it was not a humorous sound. "Why do you think?"

Steve sat up, too, facing her across the expanse of their king size bed. "I know you're upset about my schedule"

"It's not just me."

"I know." He held his hands up, as though surrendering to her attack. "I know I fucked up today, Emma. You don't have to keep reminding me."

"The least you could have done was put down your paperwork for five minutes and help him figure out long division." She glared at him for a second.

He waved his hand as though waving away an annoying insect. "You have no idea how much paperwork is involved in being mayor."

"It's not like I begged you to run for office."

His face tightened. "I'm doing the best I can."

"Yeah, I'm sure you are. But your priorities are a little screwed."

Steve stared at her for a few minutes, just studying her face as though he had never seen her before. It hurt, the way he seemed so familiar and, yet, like he was a stranger. He dragged his fingers through his hair, still as thick and dark as it was that first day in the library. A little shorter now, a little less wild. But still thick enough for her to bury her fingers in it when he touched her.

When he touched her.

She looked away, embarrassed by the tingle that had begun deep in her lower belly. How could she be so angry with him and still want him as much as she did?

It felt like a betrayal.

"I'm thinking of running for the state senate."

Emma just stared, unable to believe what he had just said.

"The incumbent's term ends this year and I'm going to run against him in November," Steve continued. "It's the next logical step."

"Logical," Emma said, her head spinning as she climbed off the bed, just standing with her back to him as she tried to wrap her mind around what he had just said. "How is it logical?"

"It's a bigger role, a step toward the governorship or even the U.S. Senate."

She spun around, faced him across the bed. "You want to be a United States Senator?"

He shrugged, a charming smile slipping across his lips. "I think it would be great. Don't you?"

She laughed again, the sound like that of a cat choking. "Great? You want to uproot your children and move them to Washington, D.C. because it's the next logical step in your career?"

"Because it's an honorable thing to do. We could make a real difference, Emma."

"You mean you could make a difference."

"Don't you remember when we first got married?" He climbed off the bed and went to her, grabbing her upper arms to get her attention. "There were so many things we wanted to do."

"I remember," she said quietly.

"We wanted a better world for our children. We wanted to make a difference."

"Yeah, but through charitable organizations." She stared at him, ignoring the little sparks of electricity his touch sent through her skin. "By joining the Peace Corps. Not like this."

"But what better way to do it, Emma?"

She pulled away, shaking her head as she did. "You just became mayor, you just started your term. You're going to abandon everyone who believed in you?"

Steve's face tightened. "Are you purposely trying to be difficult?"

She climbed back onto the bed. "Do whatever you want, Steve. You always do."

"I need you behind this, Emma."

She shuddered even as she felt him sit beside her. He grasped her chin, pulled her head up so that she was forced to look at him. "This is important to me," he said. "To me and my supporters."

Emma knew exactly who he was talking about. Steve had made a lot of new friends in the past few years. A lot of oil men with a deep interest in whom they could trust in local, state, and federal government. People who made Emma think of images of snake oil salesmen her father once showed her.

"What do you want from me?" she asked.

"Support. That's all."

Emma rolled onto her side, pulling the sheets over her shoulder. "I'm your wife, Steve," she said quietly. "I know what my role is."

He laid his hand heavy on her hip for just a moment. Then he stood and walked around the side of the bed, turning off the light and settling in beside her without a word. In a moment, she could hear him softly snoring in the dark.