Does She Love You?

  Synopsis

  Annabelle Taylor has been in her ideal relationship with an adoring partner for thirteen years. Davis Chandler is jaded from years of bad luck with women, but she thinks she's finally started dating the girl of her dreams. The only problem is they're both in love with the same woman. Nic McCoy is living a double life that is about to come crashing down on all of them.

  All three women are left trying to rebuild their lives in the wake of shocking realizations that leave them second-guessing everything about themselves and each other. As they struggle toward recovery, they each face life-altering questions about trust, redemption, and the possibility of finding love in the wake of betrayal.

  Does She Love You?

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  Does She Love You?

  © 2013 By Rachel Spangler. All Rights Reserved.

  ISBN 13: 978-1-60282-925-1

  This Electronic Book is published by

  Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  P.O. Box 249

  Valley Falls, New York 12185

  First Edition: July 2013

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  Credits

  Editors: Lynda Sandoval and Shelley Thrasher

  Production Design: Susan Ramundo

  Cover Design By Sheri (GraphicArtist2020@hotmail.com)

  By the Author

  Learning Curve

  Trails Merge

  The Long Way Home

  LoveLife

  Spanish Heart

  Does She Love You?

  Acknowledgments

  The first person I need to thank when thinking about this book is Reba McEntire. I’ve long been a big fan of hers, and the initial idea for this book came from her duet with Linda Davis called Does He Love You. I had a lot of fun playing with various scenarios for women confronting their spouse’s mistress. However, that’s where the pure fun of this project ended. The subject is ultimately a heavy one that interweaves deep questions about our ability to trust and love in the wake of a crushing betrayal. It was a challenge that offered many rewards, but also a lot of hard emotional work along the way. Thankfully, I’ve never been in a situation similar to the one my characters find themselves in, but unfortunately, it’s not uncommon. I pulled heavily from my best friend and God-baby mama, Heather Lohnes-Kanllakan, whose fortitude, faith, and ability to love again very much inspired the character of Annabelle. Thank you, Heather, both for sharing your experiences and for demonstrating the ability to work through them to something beautiful. I hope the power of love to not just overcome, but to grow, evolve, and ultimately thrive is what readers take away from this story.

  I also want to thank Len Barot and the wonderful staff at Bold Strokes Books for taking this story of mine and turning it into the book you’re reading now. My editor, Lynda Sandoval, is more than a colleague. She is a friend. She takes the time to understand my vision for every single character, then she makes sure that vision comes across on the page, even if it involves endless phone calls. She edits with a great attention to detail and a wicked sense of humor. Every part of this book is stronger because of her. Sheri worked through several great covers to find the one that best captures the tone we wanted to convey, and as always, she did so perfectly. Thank you to Shelley Thrasher, who did an eagle-eyed copy edit. It was fun to work with her again. Toni Whitaker brilliantly does all things eBooks, and I love her for it. Thank you to Lori Anderson and Ruth Sternglantz, who do the important work of making sure you can find these books online, and Cindy Cresap, who makes sure the whole process runs smoothly. Finally, thank you to all the other associates and authors who make my job so fun.

  Beta readers Toni and Barb continue to work with me as I grow as a writer. They offer encouragement, support, and the best questions to push me and the work forward. I couldn’t have turned out this book without them. My students in the Introduction to Romance Writing course I taught also offered tons of suggestions, and more importantly, shared my enthusiasm for telling this story. They were a wonderful bunch of young storytellers who filled me with energy and reminded me what a blessing it is to do this kind of work. I also want to thank all the people who have read my books and taken the time to get in touch with me on my webpage, e-mail, or Facebook. This is a lonely business with little chance to really see your work come to life. Each and every one of you who’s taken the time to tell me you read and enjoyed my work has helped keep me going through the hard days of writing this novel.

  Finally, thank you to my family, both extended and nuclear, blood and choice, who continue to shower me in love. My son, Jackson, is my light and my reason. I am grateful every day for the fullness of love he brings to my life. My wife, Susan, is both my roots and my wings. If I’ve written convincingly about trust, faith, and love in this novel, it is only because she has taught me the true meaning of those words. I know I have done nothing so grand as to warrant this abundance of blessings, but have been given them through the grace of God. Soli Deo Gloria.

  Dedication

  To Heather, who was strong enough to love again.

  And for Susie because my career is all your fault.

  Chapter One

  February

  Annabelle ran through her internal to-do list for the morning. She’d brewed Nic’s coffee and packed her suitcase, with the exception of her toothbrush. Nic’s suit was freshly pressed in a garment bag hanging in the hall closet, and her travel clothes were folded neatly in the bathroom. She loved these moments when everything was exactly how it should be, and she took pride in knowing the work she’d done helped provide a sanctuary for the woman she loved. She’d put off her next step long enough, but she wanted to let Nic sleep as long as possible, partly because, after thirteen years, she knew how grumpy she was first thing in the morning, but mostly because she wanted to keep her close for as long as possible. She finally pushed open their bedroom door and was struck once again by the blessing of still being in love with the woman in her bed after all these years.

  Nic sprawled, one leg and one arm thrown over the pillow Annabelle had tucked beside her when she’d gotten up an hour earlier. Her lips parted slightly and her dark hair was pushed into a makeshift fauxhawk. Nic’s dark eyelashes fluttered slightly when Annabelle sat down lightly on the side of the bed, but she didn’t actually stir until Annabelle placed a gentle kiss on her temple. Nic snuggled closer to the pillow. The corners of her mouth twitched as if trying to hide a smile.

  “Wake up, sleepyhead.” Annabelle kissed the dimple in her cheek. Nic closed her eyes tighter as she burrowed into their down comforter. Annabelle had to scoot farther onto the bed to kiss the only bit of skin still exposed, the top of Nic’s ear.

  Suddenly, Nic sprang to life, wrapping one arm around Annabelle’s waist and the other around her shoulders. She quickly pulled her down onto the bed and placed little kisses along her cheek and neck.

  Annabelle shrieked and tried to push her off. “You’re going to wrinkle my clothes.”

  “Good, maybe you’ll take them off.”

  “You’re so bad.”

  “You love that about me.”

  Annabelle rolled her eyes. “And modest, too.”

  Nic zoomed in
on the ticklish spot on Annabelle’s side and pressed, eliciting a giggle. “Say you love me.”

  “You know I do.”

  She tickled more vigorously. “Say it, Belle. Tell me you love me.”

  Annabelle laughed and tried to sit up, but Nic quickly straddled her, tickling her all over now.

  She could hardly speak through her laughter but managed to squeak out, “I love you.”

  “What was that?”

  Annabelle wrapped her arms about Nic’s neck and pulled her down until her lips brushed the ear she’d kissed minutes earlier. “I love you.”

  Cupping her face, Nic kissed her in earnest. Annabelle sank into the mattress, unable and unwilling to resist. She surrendered to the familiar feel of soft lips against her own. Nic had always been able to shatter her resolve with a kiss, and she hoped that would never change.

  They lay intertwined for too long, and yet not long enough, before Nic said, “I hate to go.”

  “Then don’t.”

  The mood in the room shifted. Annabelle regretted the words immediately.

  Nic kissed her curtly on the cheek and got out of bed.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine.” Nic padded into the bathroom, but she left the door open as she started to brush her teeth.

  Annabelle stared at the ceiling until she heard the water running to rinse the sink.

  “I know you work hard for us. I appreciate it. You know I do. I just miss you.”

  “We’ve got a good life, don’t we, Belle?”

  “Of course we do.”

  “I hope you think so. I try to make sure you don’t want for anything.”

  That was true. She had everything a woman could ask for: a four-bedroom house, a new Mercedes, a country-club membership, and any little bauble that caught her eye. Nic took so much pride in providing for her that she hardly had the heart to say she didn’t really care about any of it. She’d gladly trade everything for a two-bedroom apartment and a partner at home every night.

  Nic came back into the room wearing her tailored black slacks and a sky-blue oxford shirt. “I know you get lonely. Why don’t you call your sister and go play some tennis at the club today?”

  “Maybe I will, but you know I’d rather play with you.”

  “Reserve us a court for Friday when I get home, and then I’ll take you out to dinner anywhere you want. But, if I’m going to be able to afford to keep you in the lifestyle to which we’ve both grown accustomed, I have to go.”

  Annabelle got up and followed Nic downstairs. “You know you don’t have to do this for me. All I want is you.”

  Nic looked momentarily frustrated but covered it quickly with a smile. “That’s not true, darling. You want a baby, and those little bundles of joy get expensive.”

  “Oh, Nic, we’ve got more money in the bank than any of our friends.” She didn’t want to nag, but she was tired of petty excuses. She gestured as they passed through their expansive foyer to the large, open kitchen. “And we’re not lacking for space. How much more do we need?”

  “I’ve actually thought a lot about that.”

  Annabelle stopped in mid-reach for the coffee pot. She was always the one who broached these particular conversations, not Nic. “What have you been thinking?”

  “Just that a senior vice-president of sales would be able to give her wife and child a pretty nice life.”

  “Nic?”

  “And I just so happen to be up for a promotion to senior VP this summer.”

  “Oh, please, don’t joke.”

  “I’d never joke about our future, Belle. You know I take my responsibilities seriously. I want a family as much as you do. If I put in the hours I need to now, we could turn the spare room into a nursery by next fall.”

  Annabelle threw her arms around Nic’s neck and hugged her tight. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  She kissed Nic fully on the mouth, joy and love pouring out of her.

  “Whew, woman. You kiss so well, you make me forget where I’m going today.”

  She took a hint of pleasure in the lust-filled gaze that clouded Nic’s sharp blue eyes, and her desire to drag her back to bed warred with her inner secretary. “You’re headed to Atlanta today, then Boston tomorrow.”

  “Ugh, Boston will be wretchedly cold this time of year.”

  She handed Nic her garment bag and a travel mug of coffee, sad the moment had passed but proud of her ability to keep things running smoothly. “When whoever’s in New England’s through with you, I’ll make sure you get warmed up properly, but you’d better get going or you’ll be late.”

  “I see how it is. I just mention a baby and you’re ready to push me out the door.”

  “No.” Annabelle shook her head and hoped Nic knew that wasn’t true. “I miss you so much when you’re gone, but the sooner you go, the sooner you come home to me.”

  “Fair enough, Belle.” Nic smiled and kissed her one more time, then grabbed her suitcase and headed out the door.

  Annabelle waited until her taillights faded from view before wandering back upstairs.

  She needed to change her wrinkled shirt and make their bed, but instead she entered the room across from hers. She’d secretly considered this room the nursery ever since she and Nic had moved in five years earlier. The space currently held a four-poster, queen-sized bed with a matching oak dresser and nightstand, but Annabelle saw the space differently. In her mind, a crib stood against the other wall with a rocking chair instead of a nightstand. They’d put a changing table by the window and fill the dresser with clothes so tiny they’d make the drawers seem enormous in comparison.

  Could her dreams really be so close to coming true? Despite her frequent assurances that she wanted kids as badly as Annabelle did, Nic had been hesitant to talk about the particulars of having a family. Responsibility weighed so heavily on her that surely she wouldn’t have broached the subject at all this morning unless she felt ready.

  She closed the door as softly as if a sleeping baby was actually there. She had work to do around the house and errands to run, but they’d all be a little easier now with the knowledge that she and Nic were equally committed to the idea of family.

  *

  “I want to go home,” Davis Chandler said over the music that wasn’t loud enough to be obnoxious but still grated on her nerves. Blake’s was little more than a neighborhood bar on a weeknight. Aside from the mostly male clientele, its brick walls, cheeky waiters, and eight-dollar burgers made it pretty standard fare for Midtown Atlanta. “Nothing’s happening here anyway.”

  “That’s because we’re at a men’s bar, dear, and you’re the one who chose it. Let’s go to My Sister’s Room.”

  “No. I don’t want to go all the way out to Decatur this late.”

  “It’s only nine o’clock, Davis. You promised to go out with me tonight.”

  “I did. I came, I saw, I got tired. And you’re not having fun either. Other than one diesel dyke playing pool in the corner, we haven’t seen another woman in an hour. Even you like more options than that.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t go that far,” Cass said, giving the denim-and-leather-clad woman another once-over. “But there’s no one here for you, and I think you planned it that way. Why else choose a men’s bar on a Tuesday night?”

  “It’s right around the corner from my house, I’m on a deadline for work, I wanted someplace that serves food, and—”

  “You’ve given up on ever having sex again.”

  “I haven’t given up on sex. I’m just tired of all the other crap that comes with it.” Ten years ago she probably couldn’t have imagined saying that phrase, but at thirty-one she was a little more level-headed, or maybe she just wasn’t having any sex good enough to put up with the awkwardness, disappointment, or heartbreak that usually followed.

  “I don’t put up with any crap, and I have plenty of sex.”

  “You told me the last woman you took home wore yellow dishwashing gloves
the whole time.”

  Cass smirked. “I didn’t say that didn’t have its charms.”

  “Well, good for your open-mindedness, but I don’t want to wake up to lover-Rubbermaid every morning.”

  “I didn’t wake up with her.” Cass seemed appalled at the idea. “And that’s your problem. You go into everything looking for the U-Haul.”

  Davis sighed. “I don’t need a U-Haul, but all I’ve found lately are liars, cheats, and skeezeballs.”

  “Maybe your standards are a bit high.”

  “Possibly, but I’m done, Cass. No more spending the night with someone I don’t want to spend the next morning with, too.”

  “What about that one?” Cass asked, nodding to someone who’d just come through the front door. “I wouldn’t mind having her for dinner, breakfast, and brunch.”

  Davis intended only to glance over her shoulder, but a glance turned into a second look that edged close to a stare. The woman looked like a lesbian Prince Charming with her dark hair, high cheekbones, and sculpted jaw. Her black slacks and blue oxford were disheveled just enough to add a rakish edge to her business professional vibe, and the dimples encasing her smile when she caught Davis gawking almost did her in.

  “So much for sleeping alone.” Cass’s voice brought Davis back to their conversation.

  “What?” She turned back toward the bar and tried to sip her amaretto and Coke casually.

  “Don’t pretend you don’t want to suck on that eye candy.”

  “Geeze, Cass, why do you have to go there right away? Why can’t I just say I’d like to get to know her?”

  “You can, so long as we both understand you want to know her in the Biblical sense.”