The Man She Married. Ann Defee
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drink?” Without waiting for an answer, Kenni rummaged in the refrigerator and came up with two cans of iced tea.
Before she could hand over the drink, Maizie blurted out, “Clay and I aren’t exactly burning up the sheets anymore and I plan to do something about it.”
Kenni froze. “Oo-kay.” She put the cans back in the refrigerator and retrieved a pitcher of fluorescent green liquid.
“That stuff looks radioactive. What is it?”
Kenni grinned at Maizie’s description. “It’s Raylene’s version of a margarita. I think we’re gonna need it.”
“What about Mrs. Hightower?”
“Raylene can finish her up. She owes me one, and that will keep both of them out of this conversation. I suspect the fewer people involved, the better.”
Once they were settled with plastic cups of Raylene’s brew, Maizie told her cousin everything. Including descriptions of her three new tennis outfits with the halter tops and plunging necklines.
When she finished, Kenni didn’t say a word. It was hard to speak when your mouth was hanging open.
“Are you serious?” she finally choked out.
“Absolutely.” Maizie placed her half-full cup on the low table in front of her. “I’ve tried sexy lingerie and romantic dinners.” She threw up her hands. “I’ve even done a striptease and you know what he did? He said he was dead tired and could we do it later. Later!” Maizie’s voice got louder with each word.
“Shh! Mrs. Hightower might be under the dryer, but I’m fairly sure people in the next county can hear you.”
“Oh, okay.” Maizie fell back in her chair.
“Let’s look at this logically. Is there something going on at work that he hasn’t told you? Maybe he’s stressed—or he could really be tired. He loves you like crazy. Everyone can see that.”
Clay hadn’t said much about work lately and that was unusual.
“I’ll make a deal with you,” Kenni continued. “Go home, get dolled up, pull out all the stops on a romantic setting and ask him to take you away for the weekend. If that doesn’t work, I’ll reluctantly help you with this stupid scheme. What did Liza say?”
Maizie sighed. “She’s on the same page you are. But all right. I’ll give it my best shot.”
CLAY WALKER HAD HAD a hell of a day. In point of fact, it had been a hellacious six months. The engineering contract his company had with a public/private partnership road project had gone south in too many ways to count.
The private development corporation had insisted on changes the department of transportation bureaucrats had vetoed, and vice versa. Consequently, construction was so far behind schedule it was impossible to catch up, and everyone was blaming his engineering firm. During this debacle, Clay had put out so many fires he felt like a wildfire jumper.
He should have listened to his gut. He’d been hesitant to bid on the project, but the temptation was too hard to resist. It was their way to the big time. Uh-huh. If things didn’t improve soon their only option would be bankruptcy.
And then he had to add in the fact Maizie was making him nuts. They’d always gotten along so well, but lately it seemed she was constantly mad at him. He realized she wanted more attention, but he just didn’t have it to give. There were only so many hours in the day, and his had been maxed to the hilt for months. God, what he wouldn’t give for a week in the sun without emergencies and contentious situations.
Clay’s current schedule had been a nightmare of meeting after meeting. Tonight all he wanted was a cold beer and a quiet evening of TV. But when he walked through the front door, Maizie met him in the living room. There were candles on the dining room table and soft music playing on the stereo.
Please, please, please—not tonight. Any other time—at least any time other than the last six months—Clay would have been randy and ready, but not now. Please God, not now. He was so tired he wouldn’t be able to get it up even for the love of his wife.
Maizie was oblivious to his turmoil. But who could blame her? He hadn’t been willing to share. Not only had she gone to a ton of trouble, she was absolutely gorgeous in an off-the-shoulder pale blue silk blouse. Normally he’d have that blouse off in thirty seconds. And a heartbeat later he’d have her in bed, but not tonight.
Clay could tell she was getting ready to say something important. He hoped that in his addled state he could come up with the right answer.
“Clay.” Maizie put her arms around his neck. “I think we should go away for the weekend.” She emphasized the suggestion with a sexy shimmer up and down his body.
Oh, sheesh! He pulled her into his arms and rested his chin on the top of her head. She was tall, but at 6’4” he still had a couple of inches on her.
“Maizie, sweetheart. I can’t. There’s nothing I’d love to do more than spend a weekend with you, preferably somewhere far away from telephones and e-mail and nasty clients. But right now it’s impossible. I’m up to my ass in alligators on this project.”
Clay was tempted to tell her about the precarious nature of their finances, but decided against it. He didn’t want to worry her. Why should they both get ulcers? But even he knew that was a crock. The truth was he was embarrassed.
It was several seconds before Maizie pulled away, giving him a glance he couldn’t quite decipher. If he was lucky she wouldn’t be planning something nutty. But lately Lady Luck hadn’t been smiling on him.
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