The Wife Finder

by McClone, Melissa

  Blaise holding her brought much-needed warmth. She rested her head against his chest. The beat of his heart against her ear soothed her but didn’t stop her eyes from stinging.

  She was a professional. She had a plan. Getting sick wasn’t part of that.

  The next thing Hadley knew, she was sitting in the back of the SUV that Rizzo drove. Someone had buckled her seat belt. “What’s going on?”

  “You fell asleep.” Blaise sat next to her, rubbing the top of her hand with his thumb. “We’re going to the hospital.”

  She gave a shake of her head. Oh, man. Bad move. That hurt. “Too much trouble. I just need to sleep.”

  “You’ll sleep soon.” His voice comforted her, making it hard not to press into him, letting his warmth blanket her once again. “After a doctor examines you. I need to know what’s going on.”

  “Me, too,” Rizzo called from the front seat. “This is for the best.”

  Shadows flickered across Blaise’s face, but they didn’t hide his closed-mouth smile. He brushed her hair off her face. “You wouldn’t want us to stay awake and worry all night.”

  “No.” She didn’t want that. “It’s just a cold.”

  “Then this won’t take long,” he said softly. “And we’ll be home soon.”

  Home.

  And then she remembered.

  She wasn’t in San Francisco.

  Hadley cringed. “I never checked in to the hotel.”

  “Don’t worry.” Blaise covered her hand with his. “I’ll take care of it. Which hotel?”

  It took her a minute to remember the name of the hotel and tell him. What was wrong with her brain?

  “Hey.” He cupped the side of her face with his hand. “It’ll be okay.”

  She wished she felt as certain. “Thank you.”

  “For what?” he asked.

  She coughed, the hacking sound much worse than it had been. “For being here. With me. It means…”

  A lot.

  * * *

  “Pneumonia.”

  Hadley let the diagnosis sink into her exhausted brain. She was usually the definition of healthly, catching a cold or two each year but nothing else. She stared at the IV needle on the top of her hand where fluids were being pumped into her.

  “You’re sure?” Hadley assumed the doctor was telling her the truth, but she found it hard to believe a runny nose and sore throat could turn into pneumonia.

  “Yes. It’s what your friend Rizzo thought, and X-rays confirm it.”

  So it was true. She blew out a breath only to cough.

  The doctor’s gaze moved from her to Blaise, who stood in the corner of the ER treatment room. Rizzo had left thirty minutes ago, but she wasn’t sure where he’d gone. She hoped he was sleeping. They’d been here all night.

  “I don’t have the blood test results,” the doctor said. “The sputum culture won’t come back for several days, but based on what I saw under the microscope, it’s bacterial, not viral. I’ll send you home with a prescription for antibiotics. You can use acetaminophen or ibuprofen for the fever. You also need to rest and stay hydrated. You should feel better shortly. If not, see your primary care physician. A full recovery can take weeks, even months.”

  That wasn’t what she wanted to hear. “I live in San Francisco. I’m flying home Sunday. I mean, later today.”

  The doctor frowned. “You need to finish your antibiotics before you fly, and then see how you’re doing before you get on a plane. You’re young and healthy, but pneumonia is nothing to shrug off.”

  She coughed as if her body wanted to emphasize the point.

  Blaise took a step toward the bed where she lay. “Hadley’s not flying anywhere until she’s recovered.”

  Easy for him to say.

  She had responsibilities and obligations. Some could be done remotely, but not the meetings she had scheduled. She’d only booked one night at the hotel, using her reward points—those added up fast with her visits to New York—and she hoped they could extend her stay until she returned home.

  “Stop thinking so hard,” Blaise said. “You’ll strain your brain.”

  Too late. Her mind was on total overload.

  And that wasn’t going to end.

  Somehow she had to retrieve her car and suitcase from Blaise’s house, find a pharmacy to fill her prescription, and check in to the hotel. A call to Fallon could wait until Hadley was settled in her room. She could text Ella tonight to ask what could be rescheduled. Working remotely wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world though Hadley might need a day or two off until she could breathe better. But more time than that…

  Hadley coughed again, wondering if she would hack up a lung before she felt better. Eyes burning, she blinked to keep the tears at bay. She couldn’t lose it.

  “Hadley?” Blaise asked.

  She raised her chin, ignoring how the slight movement hurt. “Just a lot to figure out.”

  That was the safest thing she could say to him.

  Hadley had to remain in control. Take things one step at a time. That was how she did everything—because it worked. Her recovery would be no different.

  “Not for a few days.” The dark circles under his eyes and his drawn face showed how tired he was. “You need to rest.”

  “So do you.” Blaise had been with her except during the chest X-rays.

  “After you finish the fluids, the nurse will be in to take out the IV and give you the discharge papers.”

  “Thanks,” she and Blaise said in unison.

  “Finish all your antibiotics even if you feel better. And don’t overdo it.” With that, the doctor left.

  “I’m sorry.” They spoke on top of each other again.

  Blaise half laughed, but that didn’t take away the weariness from his eyes. “You first.”

  “I’m sorry you had to be stuck here all night. You’re losing your Sunday now.” Breathing still hurt, but she continued on. “I’ll be out of your hair—”

  “Stop.” His gaze hardened, reminding her of the rocks she and the kids had seen at Point Reyes. “You’re coming home with me.”

  “But—”

  He held up a hand. The tight lines around his mouth and deep creases on his forehead made her press her lips together. She’d never seen this side of him, but keeping quiet was probably a good idea.

  “You heard what the doctor said. This isn’t up for negotiation.” His voice was steady and low. As he came closer, he never broke eye contact. “You need to rest. I have room at my house and people to make sure you do that.”

  People.

  Something inside her shifted.

  Blaise meant staff. Employees.

  Whoever took care of his house.

  He wouldn’t be the one looking after her.

  A steel band squeezed her chest tightly. The pneumonia, except she couldn’t ignore the flash of disappointment.

  Silly.

  Blaise wasn’t her boyfriend. He had a company to run. His priorities didn’t include taking care of someone he’d hired. But he needed to keep up appearances for his friends. His “girlfriend” wouldn’t stay in a hotel when he had a huge house.

  “Th-thanks,” she said.

  “Let’s get you feeling better, then we’ll figure things out.”

  Not trusting her voice, she nodded.

  Because she wasn’t part of a “we,” but for the first time in a long while, a part of her wished she was.

  * * *

  Adrenaline pounded through Blaise—the way it had since leaving the restaurant with Hadley. Memories of his times at the hospital with Wes, his mom, and his dad crashed into Blaise like an avalanche. Deep breaths hadn’t helped calm the suffocating emotions, so he pinpointed his attention on Hadley, pushing everything else on his mind aside.

  That had worked and got him through the long hours in the ER with her. Now that they were home and Hadley had barely eaten dinner after a nap, an impending dread of something else going wrong overtook him. He hadn’t felt
this way in years.

  “You sure you don’t want me to stick around,” Rizzo said from the second floor landing.

  A part of Blaise wanted to say yes, but his bodyguard had done so much already, including getting Hadley’s prescription filled. “You’ve been up all night. When was the last time you slept? Thirty-six hours ago?”

  “Lex is on tomorrow, so I plan to sleep my Monday away.” Rizzo motioned to the closed door of Hadley’s bedroom. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m fine.” Blaise fought the urge to yawn. He was tired, but he doubted he would sleep much or well. He may have ignored the memories, but they were still there, lurking inside him, waiting for their time to resurface. “If I need help tonight, I’ll call you.”

  “Sounds good, boss.” Rizzo glanced at the door again. “Get some sleep, too.”

  As Rizzo went downstairs, Blaise’s phone buzzed. He didn’t look at the screen. He’d received messages from everyone at the dinner, plus Wes, Dash, Brett, and Henry. Word had spread like wildfire. Blaise sent updates via their group text with a promise to message them again if there were any changes on Monday morning.

  He eyed the guest bedroom’s closed door. On the other side, Hadley was changing into her pajamas. He hated leaving her alone, even for a few minutes, but she hadn’t wanted him to help her undress.

  Yeah, he’d asked.

  She’d said no.

  It was taking her a long time. He knocked. “Hadley?”

  “Almost finished.” Two minutes later, the door opened. Her eyes remained glassy, but her face wasn’t as flushed. “Sorry, I had to brush my teeth.”

  That didn’t surprise him. She probably had a nighttime checkoff list so no task was forgotten. “No need to apologize.”

  She swayed and then leaned against the doorjamb.

  His heart clenched, the way it had been doing since her collapse at the restaurant. He hated feeling so helpless, so useless. “Let’s get you in bed.”

  A glass of water and a bottle of ibuprofen sat on the nightstand. Rizzo must have gotten those when he brought Hadley her medication.

  She crawled beneath the covers in the queen-sized bed. “I appreciate your help. You must be exhausted.”

  “I’ll be fine. There’s one more thing I need to do before I turn out the lights.”

  She coughed before scrunching her nose. “What?”

  He walked to her side of the bed. “I need to tuck you in.”

  As she gripped the edge of the comforter, her knuckles went white. “Why?”

  “It’s a Lowell family tradition, right?”

  She stared warily, though some of the effect was lost because of her heavy eyelids, which kept wanting to close. “For the kids.”

  Blaise shrugged. “Audra and Ryder would approve.”

  Hadley coughed, sipped some water, and then placed the glass on the nightstand. “They would.”

  “So it’s okay?” he asked.

  Nodding, she lowered her gaze.

  “I may be a newbie at tuck ins, but Audra and Ryder thought I did a decent job, so have faith.”

  That brought a chuckle.

  What had Wes’s medical team told him? Laughter was the best medicine, which had prompted comedy movie marathons and bad jokes galore. They hadn’t stopped, either, once he went into remission.

  Blaise pushed the edge of the sheet under the mattress. Strands of her auburn hair spread across the ivory pillowcase. He focused on doing his job. That appeared snug enough…

  Memories rushed to the surface. His mother. His father. Putting them into bed. Cleaning up after them. Wondering if they were asleep or dead. Searching for a pulse or breath.

  This is different.

  Hadley will be okay.

  Blaise repeated that.

  It was true, but the old feeling of being out of his element was the same. So was his desire to help. Do what was right. Make her better.

  As he double-checked the sheet, he tucked away his emotions. That was where they belonged, hidden not visible. “How’s that?”

  She smiled softly. “It’s been years since someone tucked me in. You did a wonderful job.”

  His chest puffed. “Do I need to check for monsters?”

  “No. I’m safe here.”

  She was kidding around, but pride swelled, knowing he’d done something right for her. Everyone needed to feel safe and secure. He would do what he could so she continued to feel that way with him.

  “I’m leaving the door open,” he said. “If you need anything, yell.”

  Her eyelids fluttered. She appeared to be losing the battle to keep them open.

  “Sleep,” he encouraged.

  “Thanks again.”

  Her whisper-soft voice tugged on his heart. He would give anything to make her feel better. Maybe sleep coupled with the medication would be enough.

  Hadley coughed before turning onto her side, but her eyes remained closed.

  The woman lying in the bed was nothing like the strong, professional matchmaker he’d hired. This woman wasn’t ruled by plans and her process. She was soft and vulnerable and needed someone.

  Tonight, that person was him.

  An unfamiliar yearning welled inside Blaise. He longed to hold her while she slept. That way if Hadley woke in the middle of the night, she would know she wasn’t alone.

  But he couldn’t.

  Instead, he turned off the lamp on the nightstand. The room went dark, but the hallway light allowed him to see. “Sleep well.”

  She didn’t respond, but he hadn’t expected her to.

  Blaise brushed his lips over her forehead. Her skin wasn’t as hot as it had been, but checking her temperature wasn’t the reason for his kiss.

  Now, she’d been tucked in completely.

  He walked out of her room. At the doorway, he stopped and glanced over his shoulder.

  Hadley intrigued him. She worked hard to give clients their happily ever after, but what about her?

  Did she want one for herself?

  Maybe she’d find one tonight while she slept. “Sweet dreams, princess.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The next morning, Hadley didn’t feel any better. The only bright spot was remembering how sweet Blaise had been when he’d tucked her in last night. The man continually surprised her, but more than that, he intrigued her. If he wasn’t a client…

  Except he was.

  Which meant she couldn’t think of him as anything other than someone who’d hired her.

  She called Fallon and then Ella, speaking to them in between coughs. That wore her out so Hadley slept more, but it wasn’t restful. She woke more tired than before.

  A woman entered the bedroom, carrying a tray of food.

  “Hi, I’m Robyn. Blaise’s housekeeper.”

  She was in her fifties. A single braid of brown hair mixed with strands of gray fell to her mid-back. She wore black leggings, a coral tunic, and Birkenstocks. Mini dream catchers dangled from her earlobes. Crystals and charms hung from a thin leather cord around her neck.

  Robyn placed the tray next to Hadley on the bed. “I have a bowl of chicken noodle soup.”

  “You didn’t have to go to so much trouble for me.”

  “It’s no trouble at all. The soup isn’t homemade, because I’m a horrible cook. The chef will be here tomorrow. If you have any requests, please let me know.”

  Hadley found Robyn’s honesty refreshing. Though if Blaise had another person cooking for him, he wouldn’t need a housekeeper with those skills. “I appreciate you making me lunch, but I’m not that hungry.”

  “Not surprising because you’re sick.” With her easy smile and warm eyes, Robyn exuded the kindness and compassion of a nurturer. “Eat a few bites. You need your strength.”

  The woman’s hypnotic voice soothed Hadley in an unexpected way. “I’ll try.” She swallowed a spoonful. “This is good.”

  “Blaise wants you to sleep as much as possible, so we’ll get to know each other when you feel bett
er,” Robyn said. “Just push the tray over to the other side of the bed when you’re finished. I’ll pick it up later.”

  That sounded about all Hadley could manage at the moment. “Thanks.”

  Robyn glanced at the open suitcase sitting on the floor with clothes piled on top. “Blaise mentioned you were in New York last week. Most everything must be dirty. I’ll wash your clothes.”

  Hadley sucked in a breath. A coughing fit erupted.

  “I’ll take your suitcase to the laundry room,” Robyn said, without waiting for an answer. She picked up the luggage and clothes. “That will be easier and less distracting for you. Blaise is working from home today. I’m sure he’ll be up to see you now that you’re awake.”

  “O-kay,” Hadley croaked.

  Except it wasn’t.

  Not only was Robyn doing more work because of Hadley, Blaise had also stayed home when he should be at his office.

  This was bad and shouldn’t be happening.

  She was used to taking care of herself. Fallon and the kids, too. Now someone else was having to do everything and she was in the way.

  A lump burned at the back of Hadley’s throat.

  She ate another spoonful of soup, but it didn’t make her feel better, so she pushed the tray to the empty side of the bed.

  Stupid.

  That was how she felt.

  Stupid and tired and helpless.

  A trifecta she’d never expected to be experiencing.

  Least of all in Oregon.

  Okay, she’d taken her medication, washed her face, and brushed her teeth this morning. But the trip to the bathroom had worn her out. Doing more…

  Impossible.

  Her chest ached. Each breath hurt. Tears burned.

  She hated being sick.

  She hated being stuck at Blaise’s house.

  She hated being a burden.

  Her carefully planned life was spinning completely out of control. The worst part? Until the antibiotics started working, she couldn’t do anything to make it better.

  She hiccuped. Coughed. Cried.

  As hot tears rolled down her face, she closed her eyes.

  “Hadley?”

  Her eyelids sprang open. She wiped her face.