Honeymoon

Chapter 17

“DO YOU REALIZE there’s only one room left in this house we haven’t made love in?” Connor asked. He looked as if he was doing the math in his head.

“Well, I suppose the night is still young,” said Nora.

He pulled her tighter in his arms. “You’re insatiable.”

“And aren’t you the lucky one.”

They’d finally come in from the garage and were standing in the kitchen, holding their clothes as well as each other.

“Speaking of insatiable…,” he said.

She stifled a laugh. “How did I know that was coming? All right, naked boy,” she said. “How does an omelet sound?”

“It sounds fantastic. Or we could just go out? I could call the Inn at Pound Ridge? Or the Iron Horse?”

Nora shook her head.

“What do you want in your omelet? I want to cook for you.”

“Surprise me,” he said. “In fact, we’ll make that the theme of the evening—surprises.”

And for the first time, Nora felt a pain in her stomach. This is it.

He went off for a quick shower but not before bringing in her suitcase, which had been sitting out in the driveway. She opened it in the kitchen and removed a neatly folded pair of jeans and a white cotton T-shirt.

Then, like an old friend, a little voice inside her head showed up.

C’mon, Nora, keep it together now.

She got dressed and began preparing the omelet. With a look in the Sub-Zero she found half a Vidalia onion, a whole green pepper, and some Virginia ham, a quarter-inch thick. That was settled. She’d make a western omelet.

You’ve already made your decision. It’s just nerves, that’s all. You know you can get past this—you’ve done it before.

The kitchen had a magnetic strip along the backsplash for holding large knives. Nora stared at them. They all hung in a perfect row, razor-sharp. She reached for the biggest one and gripped it in her hand, her fingers adjusting to the slight curve of the handle before squeezing tight.

Forget about the car. And the ring. Especially the ring.

The eggs were cracked open and whipped, the green pepper diced. Nora was making small cubes of the ham. She stood at the cutting board by the sink, her back turned to the entrance of the kitchen. She could hear Connor.

“I’m so hungry, I could eat a restaurant,” came his voice, getting louder by the word.

Do it, Nora!

He was walking right toward her.

Do it, now!

She cut off another piece of ham and stared intently at the knife, her knuckles going stark white as she gripped it tighter. The lights from the ceiling shone down and danced off the blade.

There was still time to change her mind.

Connor’s footsteps were just behind her now, getting closer and closer. She felt his warm breath on the back of her neck. He was right there, within reach. She spun around quickly, her hand raised high.