Elodie had been harboring a horrid secret throughout her sister's marriage, one that she fully intended to take to the grave with her: she was in love with her sister's husband.
It hadn't happened gradually, either. The entire family had been introduced to Clay when he was invited to dinner one night—the general rule of dating being that it was best to let the date meet the entire gaggle at one time and either sink or swim. Some swam and even joined in, seeming to revel in the commotion more so than those born to it—like Elodie—did. Some sank ignominiously, like the girl their eldest brother had brought home, who refused to speak to anyone but him through the entire meal, and then only in whispers. It was as if she needed a personal translator to convey her thoughts and feelings to the peons.
Needless to say, that didn't go over very well, and it wasn't long before Steve found a new girl.
Elodie had lost her heart to Clay on first sight. She was twenty at the time, but had already been married and divorced and was now living back at home. Her parents were sadly resigned about what had happened between their second youngest and that awful boy Randy, but they were trying to make the best of it. Elodie came into the room and saw him sitting there—in her usual chair—and she knew she was a goner—that whatever gurgles of feeling she'd had for Randy were no more than emotional indigestion.
This man had reached out and grabbed hold of her barely beating heart and made her feel alive, made her feel like she could do anything... then put his arm around April's shoulder and leaned close to whisper something in her ear, and made Elodie trip over that very same heart on her way to a seat as far away from him as she could get.
What she'd felt then towards Clay had never gone away, and had never diminished. On the contrary; the longer she knew him, the more acute her responses became. It got so that she could barely stand to be in the same room with him, and yet she couldn't stay away. She and April had always been close, and since they were in the same town, they spent a lot of time together. Elodie tried desperately not encroach on the newlyweds, though, and was scrupulously careful not to reveal any of her feelings about Clay to anyone. There wasn't another living soul who knew how she felt about him. She kept it all inside, and smiled and laughed and ate dinner with them on occasion, went to the beach with them, and even hoped—because she loved the both of them so much—that April was pregnant this time, after several false alarms.
Clay still unknowingly held her heart in his hands, but Elodie would never encroach on her sister's territory, even after death. It would be wrong, and she just couldn't bring herself to do it.
But Elodie could no more give up their once a month luncheons than she could give up chocolate chip ice cream. He fascinated her, always had, and she needed her fix. Clay occasionally called to ask her out to dinner, or to accompany him to a social function, but Elodie always declined. She didn't know how far she could be trusted with him, and she refused to do anything that might dishonor April's memory. She was quite sure that being seen around town with your dead sister's husband fell well into impropriety, so she always turned him down.
Just like every other monthly meal, they sat and talked about the weather, the ranch, what they had been doing for the past month, and other inconsequential topics. Like always. Although not terribly exciting, it was comfortable, and always made Elodie feel a sense of calm.
Towards the end of the meal, Clay threw his napkin on his plate. "Next time, we're going to some place decent."
"This is decent," she said indignantly.
That eyebrow shot up as he pinned her. "It's barely edible. Next month, we're going to Red Creek."
Elodie pursed her lips. "The pretentious steak house? I can't afford it."
Another near smile. "But I can, and I'm taking you. For dinner. And I'm not taking 'no' for an answer."
Elodie held her breath, her eyes skittering away from his to the neutral territory of the scratched Formica tabletop. April had shared more with her older sister than she probably should have, but Elodie had had a hard time not living vicariously through those sexy stories.
She knew—just from being around him—that Clay was a very dominant man. Certainly not abusively so, in any way, but there was never any question as to who was in charge in his relationship with her sister. April had confided one night when they had been at Elodie's small apartment, talking, laughing, and drinking a very good Cabernet Sauvignon, that Clay never hesitated to lay down the law in more ways than one.
Elodie had been amazed at that intimate confession. But she couldn't quite bring herself to stop her sister from continuing.
April admitted that night that Clay spanked her.
Completely mesmerized, but still not sure if she wanted to know the answer to her question, Elodie asked shyly, "You mean playfully? Like a little smack smack before wild sex?"
April was already shaking her head even before Elodie finished. "Oh, no. There's nothing playful about my butt when he gets through with it, believe me!"