Chapter 1
“Did you take the test?”
Dr. Kara Latimer handed her husband the toothpaste, put her own toothbrush in her mouth, and nodded toward the plastic device sitting by the floral vase on her end of the double-sink vanity.
She wasn’t looking. Had a C-section to perform on a six-year-old French bulldog in an hour, and didn’t want to think about that, either.
Poor Celia…mama had managed to bring the six pups she was carrying close enough to term to likely produce perfectly healthy pups, but the highly unusual double-size litter was taking its toll on the dog.
And on Maggie, her owner, who’d requested that Kara spay the girl during the birthing procedure.
And…the forty-five seconds was up. She spit. Heard Ben do the same. While his water was still running in his sink, she grabbed the stick, turned it so she couldn’t see the results right away.
Stood with her guilt as she prayed there wouldn’t be a plus sign.
Ben sidled up behind her, pressing his gorgeously fit, nearly forty-year-old frame against her backside, his arms sliding around her belly as he peeked over her shoulder.
And then left half of her body cold when he let go with one hand to cover her stick-holding fingers with his. “Uh, you need to turn it over, babe.”
Babe.
Baby.
The plus sign glared at her. Growing bigger in her mind as Ben let out a loud whoop, spun her around, and hugged the air out of her.
She hugged him, too. Because he was so happy.
And she loved him so much.
“Oh, my God, I can’t believe it!” His breath tickled her neck as his excited tone lit her own fire a bit.
She wanted the family Ben was so eager to have. “I know,” she said, giving him one last big squeeze before kissing him, long and hard, and saying, “I’m sorry, sweetie, but I have to go.” He knew how much the surgery was weighing on her. “We’ll celebrate tonight, okay?”
She kissed him again, pushing her pelvis against his fly, distracting him long enough to get herself out of the house before her tears started to fall.
* * *
She was keeping something from him.
Her prerogative, of course. Healthy even, for married couples to maintain some autonomy.
Healthy on paper, at any rate. In his experience—and he’d had plenty—secrets between married couples often led to unhappy turns of events. The least of which was divorce.
And he had to keep perspective. He was so damned in love with his young wife that he’d been blinded by emotion on more than one occasion where she was concerned.
Ten minutes after Kara had given him the stick, Ben Latimer climbed into his new silver Mercedes-Benz and had some very clear come-to-truth moments. His mind had been clouded by doubts regarding Kara’s lifelong dedication to him since a week or so before their wedding.
His worry had nothing to do with her actions, words, or choices of activities whatsoever.
He was the one with ten years more life experience under his belt.
The one who’d spent nearly twenty years as a senior partner and lead investigator in one of the largest, most successful law firms in Atlanta. He’d seen things. So many of them.
He’d had to delve deeply into the motivations that drove people to break the law—or just break vows, which drove others to break the law. One of the key determiners was the older man–younger woman scenario. In the beginning, it was all roses.
Until their different stages in life no longer allowed them to walk the same path. People changed as they aged. Their bodies aged, of course, but priorities were different, too. Perspectives had more experiences, which gave them more depth.
It was all a natural part of life. Nothing anyone could prevent.
And if one’s aging was far ahead of one’s partner’s?
Until that morning, Kara had been the dream wife he hadn’t ever thought to dream about.
Far more mature than most twenty-nine-year-olds he knew, she’d been his support, his champion, the other half of his life for whom he could cheer.
And the one for whom he would always drop everything to offer his assistance whenever the occasion warranted.
The doubt—the emotion that blinded him—had always been there, beneath the surface.
Kara was gorgeous, successful, owned the only veterinary clinic in North Haven, the small town forty-five minutes southwest of Atlanta where she’d grown up—and where they currently lived.
She knew so many people there and was known by even more.
There’d always been reason to think she could do better than a man so much older than herself.
But the doubt had sprung to life during his bachelor party when one of his fellow firm attorneys had made a comment about how pathetic they were, working late and then just going out for a couple of beers rather than hitting strip clubs or hiring exotic dancers.
Kara had had a whole weekend at a rented beach house for her bachelorette party. He hadn’t asked if there’d been any male professionals invited. She’d told him, though.
There hadn’t been.
Just a lot of drinking, dancing, lying in the sun, and talking about sex.
He and the five guys who’d insisted that he have a send-off—one of whom had been Kara’s brother-in-law, and the other four were married with kids—had talked shop mostly. And watched the end of a game on the bar’s television set, doing a round of shots to toast the losing team.
So, yeah, he’d been aware from before day one of their marriage that there was a possibility that she wasn’t fully seeing what she was getting herself into, marrying a man a decade older.
He’d wondered at one time—or a million of them—if perhaps she’d been as much in love with the idea of marrying the best friend of her sister’s husband—becoming a more solid, equal part of the everyday lives of the three who’d been close since college—as she’d been in love with him.
Driving to the firm, he forced himself to shake the doubts. To climb out of emotion and into rational thought. Something he excelled at.
And his first thought threatened to send him right back in.
What wasn’t she telling him?
When he refused to sink back to a place where failure was far more prevalent than success, the next thought came. Why in the hell wasn’t he asking her?
The answer he had didn’t serve him.
He wasn’t asking because he suspected the answer was going to confirm all his doubts. That Kara was going to tell him the time had come when she was starting to see that they were on diverging paths.
That plus sign had brought her no joy. While he’d thought it was their biggest crowning moment of all time.
He was going to be a father! He and Kara were starting the family they’d talked about raising together. The truth brought a surge of buoyancy. A huge smile.
Which, in the light of the facts in front of him, faded quickly.
He was turning forty. Wanted to be young enough to chase his kid down whatever kind of field the child wanted to run in. And to play tag with his grandkids, too.
Kara still had lots of time to start a family. Years ahead of her to win races against teenagers.
You could shoot down baseless doubts. Harder to avoid the truth.
He had to ask the question.
Pushing the button on his steering wheel, he asked the car’s Bluetooth system to call his wife. And was relieved when she picked up on the first ring. As though he’d had doubts about that, too.
“Ben? I’m about to go into surgery. Is everything okay?”
Right. The French bulldog dangerously overloaded with six pups. For a split second he was envious of Kara’s eagerness to birth those babies, but not his. Jealous of a dog in danger of losing her life.
He was not handling his disappointment in the morning’s lack of celebration well.
Making it all about himself.
“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” he said then, all questions on hold until he had time to assess. Get out of his own skin. And firmly grounded back in reality.
“I’m fine,” she said, sounding anything but. Possibly because he was keeping her from surgery. In order to confirm his theory, he glanced at the clock on the dashboard, then stared straight ahead at a lane filled with no traffic at all.
Clock read 8:04 a.m. Her surgery wasn’t scheduled until nine.
They had to talk. But not on the phone. And the need was also not something he could just put baldly out there without actually having the conversation. “We need to talk” was generally not a phrase denoting happy words to come.
“How about lunch?” he asked her. “I’ve got a lead to track down not far from your clinic. I can swing by for you whenever you’re ready. I’ll make a reservation at Barney’s.” An upscale Irish restaurant not far from her practice. One of her favorites. And his, too.
The fact that his lead had to do with interviewing the wife of a murderer on the run didn’t warrant a mention in the moment. She clearly had enough on her mind. He’d get the job done in time to suit Kara. And talk to her about it later. If it came up.
“I can’t, Ben.” Her words threw him into a feeling of cold storage. “I’m so sorry, hon, but I’ve got something in the works with my sisters, and you know how hard it is for the three of us to find times that gel…”
He did know. Melanie, at forty-five, was busy supporting her big-time sports agent ex-husband—who lived in Atlanta—and their teenaged sports star son. And Stella, thirty-nine, like Ben, had started traveling for work a lot more since her divorce from Ben’s best friend.
What hit him most clearly, though, was the sudden call for time with her big sisters. Clearly, for some baby talk. Which could be a good thing.
“We’ll catch up later this afternoon, then,” he said, and telling himself that he was making mountains out of molehills, focused his attention on the workday ahead.
* * *