His mouth had gotten tight right around the time I mentioned Olivia got word from Brock’s lawyer and it was stretched taut by the time I was done.

Then he looked behind me out my side window.

Oh man.

“She hasn’t discussed this with you,” I said softly.

“No,” he clipped shortly.

I remained silent.

Then I asked, “Are you sure you don’t want any coffee?”

His eyes cut back to me and he didn’t answer my question.

Instead he asked, “Discontent?”

I again remained silent.

“You mean she threw a tantrum in front of the boys to get her way.”

I bit my lip. His eyes dropped to my mouth and his mouth again got so tight I thought his skin would split open.

“Let me go put some coffee on,” I said softly and his eyes shot to mine.

“And my wife’s reasons for wishing to see your boyfriend do not all revolve around discussing the boys seeing more of their father.”

“No,” I whispered.

He nodded and looked back out the window.

“I’ll just go make some coffee,” I whispered, got up and hurried to the kitchen.

I set it to brew, put out a plate and did the unheard of. I put store bought cookies on a plate for company.

Sacrilege.

But I didn’t think he wanted to hang while I whipped up one of my extravaganzas so that was going to have to do.

I did unearth my fancy-shmancy coffee service and the cups with saucers, filled up the sugar bowl and creamer, set it all on a tray and carried it back.

By the time I arrived, he was still contemplating my side yard landscaping with its thin but pretty layer of snow that sparkled in the sun. But he wasn’t seeing snow sparkling in the sun, by the look on his face he was trying to figure out how to get away with murder.

“How do you take it?” I asked.

“Splash of milk, please,” he answered, his eyes moving back to me.

I fixed his coffee and gave it to him then fixed my own and sat back in the sofa.

I barely got my back to the rest when he launched in.

“They’re good boys,” he declared.

“Rex and Joel?” I asked.

“Yes,” he answered. “Fine boys. Very smart. They get good grades. Solicitous in their studies. Solicitous with practicing their sports. Solicitous in keeping their rooms clean.

Solicitous to their mother. Solicitous all the time. ”

This was interesting.

I had, of course, noted this. It was just interesting that he did and that he obviously felt troubled by it.

I sipped coffee and held his gaze but kept my mouth shut.

Dade didn’t.

“Tess, Olivia, she gets… discontent a great deal.”

Oh man.

“Dade,” I whispered.

“They’re terrified of her,” he announced, “or, for her.”

I closed my eyes and looked away.

Then I opened them and looked at him. “You need to speak to Brock.”

This time he kept his mouth shut.

I leaned forward and put my elbows on my knees, holding the cup and saucer in front of me. “If you have concerns, their father should know.”

“I have had concerns for some time, Tess. My concerns are one of the reasons I hired someone to watch my wife, outside of the fact that she’s slept with her tennis instructor and her personal trainer and the massage therapist at her spa. She likes to collect men. This is her pastime outside spending my money.”

“Perhaps you’ve misunderstood these relationships. Perhaps she’s just, um… friendly,” I suggested lamely.

“I have pictures.”

Eek!

“Okay,” I gave in.

“She’s a different woman than the woman I courted.”

Jeez, he said “courted”.

I nodded. “I’ve heard that before.”

“I’m certain you have.”

I had nothing to say to that so I didn’t say anything.

“I have not spent decades being relatively successful in a boardroom only to get played by an out of the bottle, forty-four year old blonde who doesn’t know the difference of the uses

‘their’, ‘they’re’ and ‘there’.”

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly.

“I am too,” he replied.

I put my saucer down on the coffee table and picked up the plate with the cookies then extended it to him.

“They’re store bought and that would be ‘they’re’ with the apostrophe ‘re’,” I said in an attempt at a joke, he blinked then I smiled. “If I’d known I was going to have a heart-to-heart, I would have been certain to make a chocolate cake, the heart-to-heart kind with the whipped chocolate frosting between the layers and ganache on top. Unfortunately, I didn’t know so this is all I have.”

He studied me. Then his face softened.

Then he said quietly, “I’ll decline. But perhaps you’ll send a slice of your chocolate heart-to-heart cake back with the boys sometime.”

“I’ll be certain to do that,” I whispered, setting the plate down.

“I would advise you to hurry,” he went on, I got the hint and I smiled sadly at him.

“I’m so sorry, Dade.”

“She speaks of you,” he whispered back and I pulled in breath. “To the boys and me.

You’re all that’s on her mind.” He smiled a small smile. “And that would be ‘you’re’ with an apostrophe ‘re’.”

I smiled then sat back in the sofa, muttering, “I was afraid of that.”

“She does not give up easily, Tess,” he warned and I pulled in another breath. “After my wife died, I told myself, not again. Never again. My wife was a good woman, kind, generous.

I did not wish to…” he paused. “But Olivia, she worked hard at it. Three years. I thought I was lucky to be a man who, in his lifetime, found two, beautiful, kind-hearted women.”

I bit my lip again.

Dade finished, “I was wrong.”

I tilted my head to the side, about to say I was sorry again when the front door opened.

Crap!

I turned to it to see my man, black, skintight, long-sleeved running shirt with dark gray piping and matching (but loose) track pants, his hair wet with sweat as were the muscles of his neck and you could see the dark stain of it on his shirt even though it was black wicking.