You Were Meant For Me

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You Were Meant For Me Page 8

by Kait Nolan


  “But I’m sure you’d rather have your own space,” Sandy finished.

  Some of the tension went out of Tess’s shoulders.

  Trey grabbed another piece of bread from the basket. “The Babylon should have something for you.”

  “For this length of time, I’d much rather have someplace to spread out.”

  She didn’t look at him, but Mitch knew she was considering the issue of privacy. He was too busy thinking about an entirely different means of spreading out.

  “—and a kitchen. I need a really good kitchen. And a proper office. There’s not really room for me in yours at The Babylon. I need my own space, my own files, my own project board.” She scribbled in the planner, probably adding to her list.

  “Mitch designs killer offices,” Cecily announced. “You should see what he helped turn the old train depot into for me.”

  “That was a fun project. And yeah, I could work something up for you, once you settle on a space.” He was already turning over concepts in his mind, thinking about what he’d learned about how she worked over the past week.

  “I don’t know that I’m ready to actually buy and renovate something. That seems an unnecessary expense until I know I’m here for the long haul. Honestly, I’ll take a lot of my meetings on-site, so it’s just a work space for me. Probably best to keep things all in one place. My stuff is split between Denver and London right now. Does anybody do fully-furnished rentals in town?”

  “What about here?” Grammy asked.

  “Say what now?” Mitch stammered.

  “You’ve got this gigantic house, and you’re just rattling around in it alone.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t impose—” Tess began.

  “Nonsense. We’re all family now, and family helps out.”

  “Helen, I’m not sure that’s the best—”

  Grammy cut Trey off. “It’s a fine idea. Tess is a good girl. She can rub off on our Mitch.”

  That sent his brain down yet another highly inappropriate path. “I’m sorry?”

  Liz pursed her lips in consideration. “Helen might have a point. With Tess here, it’ll keep you from shoving two weeks of dirty laundry in the hall closet five minutes before family dinner.”

  Mitch felt the back of his neck heat. “Mom! You went into my closet?”

  “I was just looking.”

  For what?

  “It could be a good thing.” Reed grinned. “She could tell us about all the women you’re ‘not dating.’”

  He opened his mouth to insist he didn’t bring women here, then promptly closed it again. That would make it sound like he took them somewhere else, and he wasn’t doing that either.

  “Or teach him to cook for the ones that he does,” Uncle Jimmy mused, tongue tucked firmly in cheek.

  “It would certainly streamline planning for the incubator to both be in the same workspace,” Norah added. “And don’t you have that second office in the guest suite upstairs?”

  Mitch shot her a look, wondering what the hell she was up to. “Well, yes.”

  “See there?” Grammy said. “All joking aside, Tess isn’t ready to buy something and probably doesn’t want to be locked into any kind of a lease until her plans are more firmly settled. This is the ideal solution until she makes up her mind. Office and living space in one.”

  Don’t look too eager. He shifted his attention to Tess, doing everything in his power to keep his expression dialed to I’m-just-humoring-my-grandmother. She looked a little like she’d been flattened by a steam roller. “You are in love with my kitchen.”

  “Any food-loving person with a pulse would be in love with your kitchen. Is this your bid for me to move in and take over cooking duties?”

  “You can hardly blame a guy for dreaming after this meal. But only if you want to. Either way, you’re more than welcome. I’m not using the space.” He could see she was overwhelmed.

  “I’m not sure this arrangement is…appropriate.” Trey’s face was set in the kind of careful expression Mitch bet he used in sensitive negotiations. He could only imagine what was going through the other man’s mind.

  Grammy cocked her head, all innocence. “Why’s that, Trey? His issues with laundry aside, I know my grandson was raised to be a good host and a gentleman.”

  A muscle jumped in Trey’s jaw and they all waited to see if he’d say what he was really thinking—that he was worried Mitch would debauch his daughter.

  Way too late for that.

  In the end, Trey said nothing, and Mitch struggled not to let his sigh of relief rush out in a gush.

  Tess finally lifted her eyes to his. “If you’re sure I wouldn’t be in the way—”

  “That’s the spirit! Easy as pie. And this way Tess won’t feel like she’s cramping the newlyweds’ style.” Grammy nodded and tossed down her napkin, clearly signaling an end to the discussion. “Now, speaking of pie, is there dessert, dear?”

  Somehow, Tess made it through dessert and the viewing of Mitch’s plans with nobody calling her out for acting anything other than normal. Not that anybody here, including her father, really knew what normal was for her. The family insisted on utilizing their small army status to wipe out all the dinner dishes, and she could hardly protest on the grounds of needing the time and space to have a little freak out. So she said thank you instead and chatted over a cup of tea as they made short work of the mess she’d made.

  “Sandy and I can drive you back to the hotel.”

  “I appreciate that Dad, but I think Mitch and I need to iron out the details here.” Like whether they were really going through with it.

  Her father looked like he wanted to say something else, but bit it back. “You’ll be needing a car.”

  “I expect I will. I’ll add it to the list. Thanks for coming. And thanks for supporting this project. It means a lot to me.”

  Trey skimmed a hand over her cheek. “I have no doubt you’ll make it shine.”

  Tears sprang to her eyes at his easy confidence. Had he always been this supportive and she just missed it? Maybe all the pressure to perform, to over-achieve, wasn’t coming from him at all. God, why was she getting all emotional about this?

  Tess wrapped him in a hug. “I love you, Daddy.”

  “Back atcha, Peanut.”

  With a modicum of fuss, everybody was finally out the door and on their way back to town. As Mitch shut the front door behind them, Tess dropped into the nearest chair, the weight of the evening crashing down on her. Giddiness warred with exhaustion and the combination left her feeling faintly sick. Because she hadn’t just gotten the green light on her passion project and the ability to stay. Grammy had gifted her with a golden opportunity to explore things with Mitch, without the necessity of subterfuge. Tess wanted to jump at the chance to be with him. But it wasn’t the same as if he’d invited her into his space himself. He’d looked poleaxed at his grandmother’s suggestion.

  “So my grandmother is kinda pushy.” Mitch sank onto the end of the sofa nearest Tess.

  Here it came. He didn’t want this. It was too much, too fast. “I couldn’t think of a graceful way to do anything but agree with her.” Which was true, even if she hadn’t wanted to disagree at all.

  He rubbed his hands along his pant legs, not quite meeting her eyes. “You don’t have to move in, Tess. Most of the rest of the family clearly thought it wasn’t the best idea, and nobody’s going to think any less of you if you choose to stay at the hotel or make other arrangements.”

  “What about you?” The question spilled out before she could stop it. She was afraid of the answer. Afraid that something had irrevocably changed during dinner and she’d have gained one dream only to have lost another.

  “I’d love to have you here.” Leaning forward, he reached for her hand. “I want you here. Every night. In the mornings. No more sneaking around. But I realize this is fast and a lot and I don’t want you to feel pressured—”

  “No. No.” She stumbled over her words as relief bro
ke over her in waves. “I want to be here.”

  The carefully neutral expression he’d been wearing since dinner finally cracked. “Yeah?”

  Feeling back on solid ground, Tess rose and slid into his lap, looping her arms around his neck. “Of course, I do.”

  His arms snaked around her waist, feeling like comfort and roots. “The room’s yours as long as you want it.”

  Pausing to choose her words, she skimmed her fingers through his hair. “I’ll happily use the office. But I was hoping I’d be sleeping in your bed. I’ve missed being able to do that since Scotland.”

  He tightened his embrace. “Thank God. It’ll save me the trouble of coming down the hall to sneak into yours.”

  “So we’re settled, then? I’m moving in?”

  Mitch grinned. “You’re moving in.”

  Giddiness outweighed the exhaustion. “When?”

  “There’s no time like the present.”

  “I like the way you think.”

  So they drove to The Babylon to pack up her things. It didn’t take long. She hadn’t planned on being here for longer than a week. As Mitch carried her bags up the stairs, she nudged him toward the guest room.

  “Better to be safe than sorry, just in case any members of your large and involved family happened to wander through the house.”

  “Noted.” He shifted directions. “You need more stuff.”

  “I do. I’ll have to call and make arrangements to have some things shipped. I won’t be shutting down my flat in London until the project is completely finished, and I’ll need to fly back in a month to check on the status of things. I can finish packing things then. But I should be able to have a lot of my clothes and things sent from Denver. And I can pick up some things in the meantime to get me through.” She could do with a new capsule wardrobe.

  “We can see about a car tomorrow. Meanwhile, how do you feel about a joint bubble bath? You’ve been tied up in knots for the last few days. We can see what we can do to relieve some of that tension.” He ran a finger along her collarbone.

  Tess shuddered. “You just keep having the best ideas.”

  He brushed a soft kiss over her lips. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Me too,” she sighed.

  “I’m gonna go run the bath.”

  Alone, Tess set to unpacking what little she’d brought, neatly hanging things in the closet, slipping them in drawers. As she organized her toiletries on the bathroom counter, she began to hum. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this happy and buoyant. Everything was coming up roses.

  Her stomach gave a hard, sickening twist. The tube of moisturizer fell from her fingers as she bolted toward the toilet. She barely made it to her knees before she vomited up her dinner.

  Chapter 8

  “Well hey there, sugar. What are you in for today?”

  Tess shifted on the exam table, wishing she’d taken the visitor’s chair instead as she looked at Piper’s cheerful face. “I’ve been having recurrent nausea. I thought it was food poisoning or a stomach bug, or just a really awful case of jet lag, but it’s gone on too long for that. It started on the flight here—I came from London early last week—and every time I think I’ve shaken it, it comes back. Last night I couldn’t even keep down my dinner.” A fact she’d been strangely compelled to hide from Mitch. Maybe because once she’d thrown up, she felt fine. Brushed teeth, mouthwash, and back to the plan—which had been well worth not derailing. Still, she’d been nauseous again this morning, so she couldn’t keep blaming it on benign causes. Something wasn’t right.

  Piper went brows up. “When that happened to me it turned out to be Parker.”

  The mere idea of it made Tess’s stomach lurch again. She forced a smile. “Not a possibility.” Not with birth control pills and condoms.

  Piper waved a hand. “Sorry, it’s the curse of new motherhood. Babies on the brain. Let me take your vitals and get some basic medical history.”

  Tess nodded, wondering if it had been such a good idea to come to Miranda’s clinic about this, especially in the wake of the family’s obvious reservations about her moving in with Mitch. God, what would they say if they knew the truth? Hey Grammy! Thanks for helping me shack up with my vacation fling lover so we don’t have to sneak around under everybody’s noses!

  She winced.

  “I know, that blood pressure cuff is tight, but it’ll be done in just a few minutes,” Piper assured her.

  “It’s fine.”

  “Here, let’s check that temperature.”

  Yeah, in a town the size of Wishful, there weren’t that many options. So she’d deal with Miranda. Tess didn’t know what to expect of the woman. She’d survived something horrific, and she was, as all the Campbells appeared to be, devoted to the family. Beyond that, Tess was at a loss. She’d been too focused on her presentation, on the dinner, to do more than the very basics of getting to know the other woman.

  “Date of last menstrual cycle?”

  Tess automatically reached for her planner and flipped back, frowning when she didn’t find the relevant notation. But that was just after her trip to Scotland. She’d been off her game, upset about the end of things with Mitch, so she hadn’t been as diligent about recording as she normally would.

  “Beginning of March. I was doing a lot of traveling, so I can’t remember the exact date. But I expect to be starting any day now.”

  Piper finished making notes in the computer. “All right. You just sit tight. Dr. Campbell will be in to see you shortly.”

  “Thank you.”

  As soon as the door closed, Tess put the planner back in her purse and let herself lean back, struggling to get comfortable on the exam table. These things never had any kind of back support. She must’ve dozed off because the sound of the door opening had her jerking upright again.

  “Well hey there, Tess. I didn’t expect to see you this afternoon.” Miranda sat down on the stool, setting an iPad on the counter.

  Tess expected her to get right to business, but that was not, she was coming to understand, how things were done here.

  “So you’re moving in with my brother.” It wasn’t a question, and Tess didn’t know what the proper response was, so she said nothing. “Kind of sudden and random, being thrust into a relative stranger’s house, even if they are sort of family.”

  “Mitch doesn’t feel like a stranger.” At Miranda’s arched brow, Tess tried to cover. “I mean, we’ve spent a fair amount of time together over the past week, working on this proposal, so we’ve gotten to be friends. He’s a good guy. He took me to buy a car this morning so I wouldn’t be dependent on him or anybody else.”

  “He’s got a heart of gold,” Miranda agreed. “But I want to apologize for him on the front end.”

  “For what?”

  “My brother, God love him, is a compulsive flirt. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable with that.”

  Tess thought of her own experience on the receiving end of that flirtation and couldn’t imagine being uncomfortable with it. He wasn’t the skeezy kind of flirt who left a woman feeling like she needed a shower simply by being in the same room. He was charming, dancing his way right past people’s reservations, until they wondered why they’d resisted in the first place. By his own admission, he’d dated a huge chunk of the eligible population of women in Wishful. But she’d been all over town with him in the past week, and no one had a cross word or look for him. There was no line of jealous exes or anyone who seemed to expect anything of him—none of the negativity that would follow a player. Because he wasn’t one.

  Tess felt the urge to defend him. “I’m pretty sure Mitch flirts to put people at ease.”

  “He does. But a lot of people on the receiving end of that think he’s an operator.”

  “He’s a friend. And I’m not uncomfortable.” Please, please leave it at that.

  “Well, all right. I just wanted to check because sometimes Grammy gets something in her head and nobody ca
n make her shake it.”

  “Your grandmother is adorable.” And Tess wanted to kiss her feet for coming up with this arrangement.

  “Adorably interfering.”

  “Interfering with what?”

  Miranda shook her head and tapped a few keys on the computer, presumably bringing up Tess’s record. “Never mind. So you’re having recurring nausea. It comes and goes? Isn’t constant?”

  “Right.”

  “Is there a particular time of day it happens?” Miranda put her stethoscope in her ears and pressed it to Tess’s chest. “Deep breath.”

  “Not really. Some days it’s lingered for hours. Other times it’s just this vaguely queasy feeling that passes.”

  “Again.” She shifted the stethoscope. “What about in relation to eating? Any kind of consistent reaction after consuming food?” She moved the disk around to Tess’s back.

  “No. Not that I’ve noticed. I’ve just felt generally…lousy. I kept chalking it up to other stuff, but it seems unlikely I managed to get food poisoning, jet lag, a stomach bug, and anxiety stomach all in the same week.”

  “I’m inclined to agree with you there. All right. I want to run some basic tests. Do a blood draw, urinalysis, and see what there is to see, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Tess gave the requisite samples and waited. And waited. It actually probably wasn’t more than half an hour, but with nothing to do but stare at the ceiling, it felt longer. At last Miranda stepped through the door, shutting it quietly. Her curiously blank expression set off alarm bells.

  “What? What is it? Is it something serious? I mean, I’m twenty-six. I haven’t had a proper physical since college other than my annual gynecological exam. I—”

  “Calm down. You’re perfectly healthy.” Miranda sat on the stool and rolled over to the table.

  Tess frowned. “Then why am I feeling so sick?”

  “You’re pregnant.”

  She opened her mouth but nothing came out. There had to be some mistake.

  “I take it this is a surprise?”

  Her brain kicked into gear again. “That…that’s not possible.”

 

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