If the Ring Fits. Cindy Kirk

me and asked if I’d give her a ride. That’s it. Nothing more.”

      Mary Karen crossed her arms, clearly not convinced. “It looked like a little more than that to me.”

      “Then you need glasses.” His attempt to lighten the mood fell flat. “She’s only a friend.”

      Mary Karen lifted a brow. “A friend with benefits?”

      “Without,” he snapped. “I’m not sleeping with her, M.K. I wouldn’t do that.”

      “I’m not sure I believe you.” Mary Karen held his gaze and flipped a strand of long blond hair over her shoulder. “Joel said you’d been dating Kate before you left for Cameroon and—”

      “Joel Dennes needs to get his facts straight.” Travis spoke between gritted teeth. “Kate and I went out for drinks a couple times with a group from the hospital. That’s the extent of our ‘dating.’“

      “You brought her to the party,” M.K. pointed out. “You never bring girlfriends to these types of gatherings. What am I to assume except … she must be special.”

      Travis had never seen this side of Mary Karen. It was almost as if she were jealous. But that didn’t make sense. He opened his mouth to tell her it wasn’t any of her business—in a nice way, of course—when he realized with a jolt that it was her business. Just like he hadn’t liked seeing her with Joel, she hadn’t liked seeing him with Kate.

      She was his wife.

      He was her husband.

      The second they’d signed that marriage license, the rules had changed. Which meant he owed her more of an explanation. And, an apology.

      “I ran into Kate at the hospital last night,” he said. “David had invited her to the party and she asked me to pick her up. I should have said no.”

      “Hmm.” Mary Karen brought a finger to her lips. “You had time to talk to Kate about the party, yet you didn’t have time to call and let me know you’d gotten back safely.”

      Instead of being angry for being called onto the carpet once again, Travis found himself admiring Mary Karen’s spunk.

      “You’re absolutely right,” he said. “I should have called.”

      Surprise flitted across her face as if his response had taken her by surprise. “Y-yes,” she stammered. “You should have.”

      “Do I need to grovel?” It was an old joke between them. Some offenses required not just an apology, but some serious groveling.

      A smile tugged at her lips before she brought her mouth under control. She pretended to think for a moment, then nodded. “Because of the multiple infractions, groveling will be required.”

      Thankfully he was in the car. If it were anywhere else, she’d probably have made him get down on his knees. He clasped her left hand between his. “I’m sorry, M.K. I really am. I’m a thoughtless, despicable ass. If you forgive me, I swear the next time you make your tofu pizza, I’ll eat it and you won’t hear a word of complaint. That’s how truly sorry I am.”

      She pretended to ponder his words but her smile reappeared.

      “Apology accepted,” she said with a decisive nod. “And I’ll hold you to that tofu pizza promise. Don’t think I won’t.”

      “I missed you. As the words left his lips he realized they were true. “Did you miss me?”

      Mary Karen lifted a shoulder in an exaggerated shrug. “I may have thought about you once or twice.”

      “Brat.” Relief washed over him. He smiled then reached for her. Before she could protest and pull away, he pressed his mouth to hers.

      Surprise was on his side. She instantly softened against him. Her fingers slid through his hair as they continued to kiss, long passionate kisses that sent fire coursing through his body. Then, abruptly, just as his hand slid beneath her shirt, she pulled away and glanced around.

      “Discretion, Trav,” she said, sounding breathless, her lips swollen from his kisses, her hair tousled.

      Travis groaned. Discretion had been their byword since they’d started their friends-with-benefits relationship three years ago. The rules were simple. No hugs or kisses where they could be seen by others. Other than last year’s Christmas party where a plethora of mistletoe had caused things to get a bit out of control, they’d stuck to those rules.

      “You’re no fun,” he grumbled.

      The rarely seen dimple in her left cheek flashed. “That’s what my boys tell me.”

      “If you insist on privacy …” Travis slid the key into the ignition and the engine purred.

      “Where are we going?” she asked.

      “Someplace private,” he said. “Where we can talk and not be disturbed. Is that okay with you?”

      She thought for a moment, her eyes dark and unreadable in the dim light. Then she nodded. “We do need to talk.”

      Conversation wasn’t exactly what Travis had in mind. He wanted to hold her close, feel her body respond to his, reassure himself that their temporary marriage hadn’t changed things between them. But if she wanted to talk, they would talk.

      She reached forward, switching radio stations. He wasn’t surprised when she stopped the search when she got to a country one. He knew her tastes as well as he knew his own.

      Travis put the car in gear but didn’t hit the gas. Instead he let his gaze linger, watching the way the light from the moon caught the golden blond of her hair. Pretty, intelligent and with a heart as big as the Wyoming sky. No wonder no other woman held a candle to her.

      The strains of a steel guitar filled the cab and she sat back with a satisfied sound. Travis pulled away from the curb and relaxed fully for the first time since he’d left for Cameroon.

      He turned onto US 26, passing the four antler arches in the town square. Surprisingly, for someone who’d wanted to talk, M.K. didn’t seem to have much to say. So Travis picked up the ball and ran with it, just like he had in high school when he’d been the running back and had taken a handoff from David.

      Travis told Mary Karen about the baby he’d delivered last night, how concerned he’d been when he’d first arrived at the hospital, his relief when all went well. Once he turned onto the highway the talk shifted to Cameroon and his time in the East Region.

      He could still see the men grilling fish and soya and brochette over homemade barrel grills at the side of the roads. Then, the talk turned professional. As a nurse, Mary Karen could appreciate the challenges of providing medical care in hospitals without running water.

      She listened attentively, occasionally making encouraging noises.

      “I’m never going to complain about anything again,” he vowed, turning off the highway onto a side road. “We have so much here, so much to be thankful for.”

      “I’d thought about going into the Peace Corps when I got out of college.” Mary Karen’s eyes took on a faraway look. “As a nurse, I knew I could be of real help to those less fortunate.”

      Peace Corps? Mary Karen? He’d dated her when she’d been in college. She’d been the pretty sorority girl who always had a smile on her face. This volunteer thing was news to him. “Why didn’t you do it?”

      The smile on her lips vanished. “C’mon, Trav. You know why.”

      Then he remembered. Her senior year she’d begun dating Steven, a man without an altruistic bone in his body. By the time she’d graduated with her Bachelor of Science in Nursing, she’d been five months pregnant.

      Travis pulled off the highway onto a rarely used dirt road and parked the convertible.

      “You never told me about the Peace Corps thing.”