Matters weren't going well between him and Hannah. The woman was more stubborn than anyone he'd ever known. He'd insisted she not lift anything, concerned for her health and that of the baby. Every day, it seemed, she took delight in defying him. Invariably he lost his patience with her. She never argued with him, not once, but his tirades left her pale and withdrawn. Afterward, Riley felt like a heel. On more than one occasion he hadn't been able to live with himself and he'd gone to her and apologized, feeling like a brute for having chastised her. Just when things seemed to be working out between them, Burt had mentioned Judy Pierce. His friend certainly hadn't helped his cause any.
Judy was a friend – nothing more. But Riley sincerely doubted that he'd ever convince Hannah of that. The two had dated a few times over the past several years, but nothing had developed from it. His friends might have drawn a few conclusions about the relationship, conclusions that Judy herself might have implied. It didn't matter what Judy had told the others; she meant nothing to him and never would.
There hadn't been another woman in Riley's thoughts, night or day, from the moment he'd met Hannah. She'd had him twisted up in knots for months. Riley had never experienced frustration the way he had since meeting her. Attempting to locate her after she'd run out on him had demanded time, effort and money. When everything he knew how to do had failed, he'd resigned himself to never seeing her again, only to have her thrust back into his life like a sharp knife. A double-edged one, at that. She was his wife now, but he might as well have entered a seminary, for all the good it did him to have spoken marriage vows.
Frankly, Riley didn't know how much longer he was going to last under this insane arrangement. If anyone had told him he would go more than a week after his wedding without making love to his wife, he would have sworn they were crazy. He'd agreed to Hannah's terms for one reason only. Perhaps it was a bit conceited of him, but he'd firmly believed he'd have her in his bed within a matter of days. After that first night, when he'd upset her so badly by sleeping at her side, he hadn't even tried. Hannah certainly hadn't gone out of her way to encourage his attentions. The kiss they'd shared in the apartment had been his first sign of hope in days. Once they got moved in and settled down a little, he'd work on getting her into his bed. If everything went right, it shouldn't take long.
The furniture and boxes were nearly unloaded when the truck from the furniture store arrived. The two men delivered the oak frame, mattress and nightstand and within a matter of minutes were promptly on their way.
Riley had hoped their timing would have been a little more to his advantage, but since Hannah had already let the others know they weren't sharing a bedroom, it didn't much matter.
The last of the furniture was in place and Riley was unloading what remained of the boxes when Don approached him, looking apologetic.
"What's wrong?" Riley asked. "Did you break something?"
"Not quite." The electrician pushed up the sleeves of his shirt, glanced up at Riley and shrugged. "I'm sorry, man, I didn't mean anything."
"What the hell did you do?" Don wasn't exactly known for his tact.
"I called Hannah… Judy. I swear it was a mistake---I just wasn't thinking."
Riley groaned. "What did she do?"
"Nothing. That's just it. She corrected me and then went about organizing the kitchen. It was the way she looked – so, hell I don't know, fragile, I guess, like she didn't have a friend left in the world. It got to me, man. It really got to me. I tried to apologize, but everything I said only made it worse."