"Okay, I won't be long. I promise!" She leaned in and pecked him on the lips. She turned and hurried out. Cain dropped his head and sighed. He wiped his hand down his face.

"d.a.m.n."

"You're going to let me walk out of that door alone?"

She didn't look up. Lifting her gla.s.s of tea, she sipped and turned the page of her magazine. Her chair faced the large window in their bedroom, giving her a view of the yard. Her eyes went again to the overgrown patches of lawn around the gazebo and the thoughts of a garden returned. She always wanted a garden. it's the only good memories she had with Diane. Her love of plants. Kim didn't need those memories, but she did.

"Simone!"

"I'm not going, Keith. In fact, I think we need some time apart. So you go. I'm sure our therapist would agree," she replied sweetly.

He hovered. She didn't have to look up to see his anger. He had crossed the line and so had she. They were at an impa.s.se, the point where she'd always cave. Not today. She was not going to bend.

"I'll give you some s.p.a.ce, but when I return home, I want this att.i.tude gone. This isn't us. Not anymore. I won't put up with it," he huffed and marched out of the room. She sighed, closed the magazine and blinked back tears. She waited until she heard the door below close to pick up the phone. Drawing her feet up on the chair, she dialed.

"h.e.l.lo?" a woman's voice answered.

"Kim?"

"Hi, Simone, it's Anne!"

"Oh, hi, Anne, how are you?"

"I'm good. How's New England?"

"It's okay. What is that in the background?"

Anne laughed. "The twins. I bought them drums."

"What?"

"Yeah, I couldn't resist. I saw them in Wal-Mart and they were the kind that light up when you hit the middle and starts to play songs. Kim is going to kill me."

"What is she doing?" Simone asked.

"Oh she's not here. She called me this morning and told me she had to go in."

"On a Sunday?"

"Yeah, she's been pushing it really hard, Simone. She looks tired most times, and I found-"

"What did you find?"

"It's nothing." She could tell Anne covered the phone as she told the boys to stop fighting over the same drum. She ordered Danny to return to his.

"Anne?"

"Yeah, I'm here, sorry," the young girl answered.

"What did you find?"

"I found some tissues with blood. I think she has nose bleeds again."

Simone frowned. "You asked her about it?"

"No, I wouldn't. She's wound so tight that I just didn't. But you might want to check in on her and make sure she's okay, ya know? She won't tell me anything," Anne said.

"Thanks. I'll do that. Tell my babies I love them."

"Take care, Simone."

Simone lowered the phone to the arm of the chair. After a moment of reflection, she rose and went to her knees. She reached under the bed and drew out her laptop bag. Sitting back, she unzipped and pulled out the silver Mac. Nosebleeds weren't from stress or allergies like Kim once told her. Were they? She waited for her wireless connection, opened her Safari browser to Google and typed in 'nose bleeds'.

Medical conditions that may cause nosebleeds include: allergies, sinusitis, colds, and deviated septum. Rarely, frequent nosebleeds may indicate a serious condition, such as a bleeding disorder, hereditary hemorrhagic telangiectasia, or leukemia.

Simone frowned. She read the rest of the page. It highlighted everything from dry air to drug abuse. The one thing she didn't have to worry about was drug abuse. Kim was the most responsible one in their loser family. Still, she would talk to her. If working too hard is causing this, then she was definitely going home. She closed the lid to her laptop and dropped her head in her hands. She had a headache.

Falling over to the floor, she lowered her hands and stared up at the ceiling. She studied the grooves along the beams that ran across from one end to the other. She wanted to be alone. She was glad she was. Closing her eyes, she tuned into her inner voice, feelings and those forbidden thoughts she kept fighting through the night. She was conscious of her breathing. Her skin was as sensitive as it was when she stood in the bathroom. He was there staring out at her, watching. Her nipples tingled the same as they did last night in the cool night air as the memories flooded back clear and liquid. Simone smiled.

He was so tempting. Cain.

Chapter Ten.

The Tuba Player Cain He shut the fridge. The beer was his first, but after his morning he figured it wouldn't be his last. Having the house to himself was a rare treat. Cain left the kitchen, crossed the living room and headed to the back of the house. Before he stepped out on the terrace, he heard her. Soft curses and groans carried in the wind. He peeked out. She was there in the yard with gra.s.s up to her knees. She seemed to be breaking off branches that were overgrown and tangled with weeds all around her gazebo.

Cain watched.

He sipped his beer and watched.

He was safe standing under the threshold to his outdoor terrace. Even if she looked up she wouldn't see him. So he took his time and watched her. She was dressed for a day of weeding in a pair of jean shorts and a white cotton tank-top. Her thick hair was in a braid down her back. He could see everything from the tiny beads of sweat on her brow and arms, making dark Hershey brown skin glisten in the sun, to the firm toned muscles in her long legs as she reached, stooped, and dragged out dead or broken tree limbs.

What the h.e.l.l was she doing? It made no sense. He chuckled to himself. "h.e.l.lo there, Mrs. Livingston. Can I help you, Mrs. Livingston, or should I just stand guard and watch you Mrs. Livingston?"

He shook his head. A man could have his fantasies. The lady probably wouldn't give him the time of day. What was he thinking? She's married. So was he. His smile soon faded as he recalled her body and what treasures her uptight husband had on lock and key. If he didn't put an end to it, he'd never be able to look her in the eye again, let alone work next to Keith without revealing his secret desires. He very well couldn't go out there and apologize. What if she had already told her husband? s.h.i.t! Then it came to him, the perfect idea.

"s.h.i.t!" she exhaled. Taking time to catch her breath again, she rested her hands to her hips. "What the h.e.l.l am I doing? This is crazy. I can't do this by myself."

It was a good idea at first. All the Home and Garden magazines she'd read and collected should have made this a breeze. Break a few branches, clear out some weeds and haul them all to the trash. She'd suddenly have a cleared spot for some planting. And she saw another area not too far from the gazebo to start a garden. A perfect cure for restless energy and those naughty wild thoughts she couldn't suppress.

It was a bust. Twenty minutes into it and she was sweating under her arms and between her thighs. There was a barrage of swarming tiny bugs uncovered from a tree stump or weed patch that went on the attack, biting her everywhere. "To h.e.l.l with this." She threw her hands up in defeat.

There was a blast. A loud horn blared out from all around. She whirled in shock. "What the h.e.l.l was that?" she gasped, putting a hand to her throat. Then came the hard notes of Yankee Doodle Dandee. Her gaze shot to the left. It was Cain! He stood in the middle of the yard, facing her, playing his tuba. Simone's eyes stretched in disbelief. "Are you crazy?" she laughed.

He rocked side to side with the tuba blaring like a siren. She covered her mouth to hide her laughter. Then he switched it up and started on Michael Jefferson. Simone nearly bent over laughing. He marched around the back yard playing and sounding really awful. Simone shielded her eyes from the sun, shaking her head in disbelief.

She could tell he was soon winded by the way the notes fell flat despite his efforts. He gave her a final blow and then moon-walked to a finale.

Simone jumped up and down clapping, grinning, and clapping some more.

Cain bowed and bowed again from her applause.

She high stepped it through tall gra.s.s and weeds, ignoring the blistering sun bearing down on her. She stopped at his fence. Cain lowered his tuba to the gra.s.s and approached. Simone laughed. She couldn't help it. He was huffing and puffing out of breath. "What was that?"

"My apology, Simone."

"You are unbelievable." She shook her head smiling. "I thought you were kidding. My G.o.d. The neighbors are going to call the police."

"Wouldn't be surprised if your husband isn't calling right now," Cain grinned.

"Keith has gone back to the club."

"Funny, Maryanne is at the club too." He winked. And she knew he knew all along that Keith was gone. There was a long pause. She stuck her hands into her back pockets, continuing to stare into those eyes that she couldn't stop thinking about. "What are you apologizing for, Cain?" she asked.

He stepped closer to the fence. He smiled again, and everything inside of her melted a degree. "Last night, you know why."

Simone kept her eyes on his. Up close again, she found his eyes deep ocean blue and as mysterious as the crooked smile he wore.

"I apologize." His eyes dropped and she sucked in a deep breath, holding it until they lifted from her chest to meet her stare once more "For the intrusion."

"It's okay," she quickly said. Too quick. Of course it wasn't okay. It was wrong. Dead wrong. He arched a brow and she tried to steady her voice. "I guess I should close the blinds."

"Don't," he said, holding her stare. "I mean, you don't have to. I'll keep my eyes to my property line from now on."

A ball of heat lodged in her gut and her knees went weak because of those d.a.m.n eyes of his. She gripped the fence just to keep standing. His eyes crinkled at the corners as he watched her.

Oh, G.o.d, did he know how much she liked it when he watched her?

"Simone," he spoke in a deep timbered voice, "are you okay?"

Her mind shut down. "Huh?"

"I said I'll keep my eyes over on my property line," he repeated.

The man saw her naked. She allowed it. That broke all kinds of rules for a married woman. Right? "Yea, well... like I said, uh, things happen so..."

"So what's with the yard work?" he asked, leaning on the fence. Changing the subject so abruptly made her ears pop. The pressure that had built up in her chest lessened. Suddenly, she could breathe easily again. She looked back at the mess behind her and shrugged.

"I want a garden."

"Really? Over there? In this heat?"

"Bad spot?"

"Step back."

She did as he asked, confused at first. Then she watched as he climbed the fence like a jock and dropped over on the other side, missing his footing and landing on his hands and knees.

"Cain! Are you okay?" she asked, reaching to help him. He took her hand, pulling her to him to rise. She didn't shy away from his touch, initially, or the manly scent of beer and aftershave as she helped him stand. But she stepped aside as soon as he was upright. Too much of him that way was bad for her sanity.

"Wow," she chuckled as he dusted off his hands. "How manly of you."

"Yeah, well it looked like a good idea at first." He put his hand to his back and bent backward in a stretch. "But I'm not twenty anymore."

She nodded, grinning. She was constantly grinning and a change for her. She hadn't smiled in quite some time before meeting him. His gaze surveyed her yard then returned to her. He towered over her, blocking the sun; she swore the man's eyes were as clear as liquid. She couldn't break away from them. Not that she wanted to.

"What type of garden?"

"Huh?"

"Garden, you said you wanted to start one?"

"Oh, yeah, vegetable." she lied. She just wanted to have plants growing. She didn't know a d.a.m.n thing about growing vegetables.

"Cool. So you want to grow warm weather crops like tomatoes, peppers, corn, okra, eggplant? Perfect for the summer." He walked through her yard. Simone followed him, intrigued. Her calves itched from the sc.r.a.ping of the tall blades of gra.s.s they waded through. She reached down and smacked her thigh at a bug bite, drawing his eyes and attention back to her. She blushed.

"Mosquitos."

He smiled.

"What are winter crops? Like to know my choices."

"Not winter crops. You don't grow vegetables here in the winter. But cool weather crops that can tolerate lower temperatures are uh...let's see..."

Fascinated, she held on to every word.

"Broccoli, brussel sprouts, cabbage. And tender weather crops..."

"Tender what?" she asked, touching his arm to stop him. He looked down at her touch, and she removed her hand.

"Tender weather crops are the same as cool weather crops, but you need to do some serious nurturing and protecting of them. Things like onions, lettuce, garlic, spinach."

"How do you know all these things? Aren't you some kind of Ivy League Sales guy?" she chuckled. But he didn't. She noticed how his jaw tensed at her joke. Immediately, she wished she had shut her d.a.m.n mouth. "I didn't mean to offend."

"It's okay. You're right. My mother was a gardener when we were kids. Loved to garden, before, before she couldn't anymore."

"I'm sorry. Is she still alive?"

"She is." He perked up and then cast his eyes down to her. "Now, do you want my help clearing away the perfect spot for this garden?"

"I couldn't ask you to do that. I could get someone out here to do it."