Anticipation filled her eyes. She shifted her weight between her feet. “Do you like it?”
“I love it.” He’d wanted to have a home where he felt comfortable yet could still entertain. Laurel had achieved both goals. “You did an incredible job.”
She blushed. “Thanks. I had help pulling it together tonight.” She motioned to one of the place settings. “Sit down, or your dinner will get cold.”
“You cooked yourself?”
Laurel nodded. “But with everything else going on, dinner’s more of an afterthought. I hope you don’t have your sights set on a seven-course meal.”
He sat. “Whatever you made will be fine.”
“I’ll be right back.”
Seeing her excited pleased him. He glanced at the table.
A tossed salad filled a silver bowl. Crystal salt and pepper shakers sat nearby. He picked up a sterling silver fork, unable to believe this had been an empty room this morning.
How had Laurel accomplished this after working all day?
She carried in two steaming plates of spaghetti with meat sauce. A basket of garlic bread was tucked under her arm. After she placed everything on the table, she sat. “Dinner is served.”
Brett filled their wine glasses with the bottle of sparkling cider sitting next to the salad bowl. Nothing had been left to chance. Laurel had thought of everything to make this dinner special.
“A toast.” He raised his glass. “To making this house a home.”
She tapped her glass against his. A high-pitched note hung in the air.
“Here, here.” Laurel took a sip before raising her glass again. “I’d like to make another toast—to a healthy baby.”
“I’ll second that.” He lifted the glass to his lips.
“You don’t understand.” Her gaze met his. “The test results came back today. Junior’s fine. Our baby is healthy.”
His mouth gaped. He nearly dropped his glass. “Everything’s okay?”
Eyes twinkling, she nodded.
Relief flooded him. He rose from his chair, hurrying to Laurel. “When we hadn’t heard anything, I thought something must be wrong.”
She smiled up at him as bright and happy as she’d been on their honeymoon night. “Nothing’s wrong.”
Bending over, Brett wrapped his arms around her. As she hugged him back, a piece of his heart melted. If only they could do more of this…
When she let go, an odd emptiness grabbed hold of Brett. His heart missed the feel of her against him.
Don’t read too much into the hug.
This was a reaction to Junior being healthy, nothing more.
Healthy.
Brett focused his attention on that.
The weight of the past two weeks lifted. He noticed the same thing with Laurel. Relief shone in the depths of her blue eyes. Nothing was forced. No pretending.
“I wanted to tell you at work, but Danielle said you were having a rough day, so I decided to wait.”
“If I’d found out the news at work, I’d have been useless the rest of the day.” The way he would be tonight. He wanted to celebrate. Dessert and dancing. He would spin Laurel around the room until their feet ached. Then he would lower her into a dip and kiss…
She beamed. “I’m glad I waited.”
“Me, too.” Brett wasn’t satisfied waiting for her any longer. She needed a push, a project to show her what she could accomplish on her own. Something that would enable her to shine at MGI and at home.
An idea struck him like a line drive to third base. A way to accomplish what she needed and him, too. “What do you think of hosting a party for our premium clients?”
Her face lit up. “Great idea. There must be elegant places in Portland—”
“I want to have the event here.” That was key. “Would you be interested in planning the party and being the hostess?”
Her features changed. Her lips thinned into a narrow line.
Forget appearing happy. She appeared as startled as a deer caught in the headlights with rush-hour traffic speeding toward her.
“But the house isn’t ready.” The words, one on top of the other, tumbled from her lips. “The living room furniture is on order. Renee doesn’t know exactly when items will arrive. The bookcases for the library won’t be installed for two weeks, and—”
“Have Renee pull strings and bump up delivery dates if possible. Do what you can before the party, and wait on the rest,” he said, hoping to appease Laurel’s concerns. “You’ll need a month or so to pull the party together. Think you can handle it?”
“Yes.” There wasn’t the slightest doubt in her voice.
Good. Her confidence was attractive.
“I’ll give you a head count and a budget. On Monday, check my calendar with Danielle and pick a date. Everything will be up to you.” Brett liked the way her eyes twinkled. He’d done that. Not with compliments or gifts, but by putting her in charge of an event. “Since this is for MGI clients, we can lighten your regular workload. You can devote your efforts to the party.”
Her mouth slanted. “I don’t want any special treatment.”
“You’re not getting any. Trust me.” He appreciated how she didn’t want special favors or for anyone to go easy on her. “Just make sure whatever you do appeals to our premium investors. Their backgrounds range from a retired airline mechanic to billionaires like Henry Davenport. But each one is important because without them, MGI would have never grown and been hired to oversee pension funds.”
Grinning, she clapped her hands together. “This is going to be fun.”
He nodded. Fun and a step closer to marriage. Still, her enthusiasm and genuine happiness at being given her own project made him realize there was so much more to Laurel Worthington than he’d originally thought.
“Why don’t you jot down ideas, then we can talk about it in a few days?” he asked. “I don’t want to wait too long for the party, but I don’t want you overwhelmed. Hire the help you need so you don’t overtax yourself.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.” She didn’t bite her lip as she usually did when nervous. That was good.
“I have complete confidence in you.” And he did.
“You don’t know how happy I am to hear you say that.”
This would be a big step for Laurel, but this event would play to all her strengths. “You’re making the house into a home, and the party will be the talk of the town.”
Her smile widened. “Go ahead—put more pressure on me.”
He laughed. “I’m here to help you in any way I can. All you have to do is ask.”
“I will.”
Her tone suggested she would. He sensed this party would lead to a change—a welcome one—in their relationship. By the time she’d finished hosting the party, any doubt she had about her abilities would be gone. She would see there would be no need to strike out on her own since she would have proved she was capable and strong, able to take care of herself, and able to manage money.
Mr. and Mrs. Brett Matthews.
That was the end goal—to get the family he wanted for their child. They wouldn’t only be good co-parents; they would also be compatible spouses who complemented each other. She might not be a wealthy and connected Worthington any longer, but she would bring her own talents and strength to the marriage. Yes, this would work out better than he expected.
It was his turn to smile. “We’re in this together, Laurel. Never forget that.”
“I won’t.” Her gaze met his.
His heart bumped. Neither would he.
CHAPTER NINE
The days turned into weeks. Watching Laurel blossom with self-confidence as she planned the party touched something deep inside Brett. Now that the day of the event had arrived, he couldn’t wait to celebrate all she’d accomplished.
Brett stood in the doorway of her bedroom. “I have something…”
The words died on his lips. All he could do was stare.
She wore a dress shir
t of his. Water from her damp hair wet the fabric. The shirt wasn’t completely buttoned, either, so he forced his gaze elsewhere.
Wrong move.
Nothing covered her long legs. Her skin appeared soft and smooth and begged to be touched.
He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. The door was open.”
“It’s okay. I just showered, and I’m getting ready for the party.” Her pink tongue darted out to moisten her lips. “Can you believe it’s tonight?”
“No.” He forced the word from his dry throat. Imagining what Laurel wore, or wasn’t wearing, under his shirt short-circuited his brain.
“Did you need something?” she asked.
Oh, yes. He needed something, all right.
He needed…her.
Brett sighed.
Not now. Especially not tonight.
He’d been patient, afraid he might push too hard, afraid he might blow whatever chance he had with her. This was her time. A means to an end for both. But now, when she was so close to success, when she looked so sexy, when he smelled the scent of her soap, her shampoo, her…
Get control, Matthews.
Brett struggled to stop the pounding of his heart, the racing of his pulse, the boiling of his blood.
Remember why you’re here.
He moved to retrieve the long white box tied with a yellow satin ribbon he’d stashed outside the door and then gave it to her. “This is for you.”
She took the present. “You didn’t have to—”
“I wanted to.” Eager to see her reaction, he motioned to the box. “Aren’t you going to open it?”
“If you’re going to twist my arm.” Laurel set the box on the bed, untied the ribbon, and raised the lid. “I wonder what it could be.” She pulled back the tissue paper, and a small gasp escaped her lips. “Oh, Brett.” Her smile was more than worth the price of the dress. Her fingers ran over the shimmering fabric. “It’s beautiful.”
“I thought the color would be good on you.” Okay, that wasn’t the entire truth. He’d been heading to the office after lunch when the midnight-blue dress in the window of an upscale maternity boutique had grabbed his attention. Long-sleeved with a scooped neck, the dress didn’t have any elaborate detail or stitching, but it appeared to have been made for Laurel. Brett had purchased the gown on the spot. “I know you want to buy your own clothes, but tonight’s a special occasion. You’ve worked so hard. You’ve earned this.”
She lifted the dress by the shoulders. “I did earn it, didn’t I?”
“You did.” He grinned, happy she hadn’t declined his gift. “You pulled together the party and the house, and you still managed to get work done at the office.”
She blushed. “You’d better be careful, or I’ll ask for a raise.”
“I’d better be careful, or I’ll give you one.”
Laurel’s eyes glistened. “Thank you so much.”
Her gratitude tightened his throat. It took so little to make her happy. He couldn’t wait until they were married, until he could give her so much more than one dress. “You’re welcome.”
Her gaze traveled from him to the dress. “We’d better get ready, or we’ll be welcoming our guests dressed like this.”
Brett nodded, but he could think of worse things at the moment. Much worse.
♥ ♥ ♥
Laurel practically floated down the stairs, feeling like a princess—a pregnant one, but a princess nonetheless. She’d rented—buying a gown was out of her budget—a dress that would have been suitable for the party. But this, well, this one was perfect.
Dressed in a black tuxedo, Brett greeted her at the bottom of the stairs. Gold specks she’d never noticed before danced in his brown eyes. “You’re stunning.”
Laurel’s breath caught in her throat. So handsome. So male. So Brett. “You, too.”
“Let me see the dress.”
She twirled. As she spun, the skirt flared. “What do you think?”
“You’re more beautiful than the house.”
“As long as I don’t look as big as the house,” she joked.
Brett laughed. “You have a long way to go for that.”
She peeked into the living room to make sure everything was ready. Fresh, vibrant flower arrangements filled the air with a light floral scent. Nothing was out of place. Even the decorative throw pillows had been fluffed.
“Anything else you need to do?” he asked as they moved into the dining room.
She checked her earrings. The pearl studs were the only real jewelry she had left—a gift from her grandmother—and she didn’t want to lose them.
“I think that’s…” Her gaze ran the length of him. “No, wait. I need to straighten your bow tie and cummerbund.”
As she stepped toward him, he removed his jacket. “Everything is wonderful. I feel as if I’m in a dream and not in my own house.”
“Me, too.” Especially standing so close to him, her hands on his waist. A tilt of her face and she could brush her lips across his.
Her heart thudded against her rib cage.
Moments like this kept happening, but Brett hadn’t touched her, hadn’t kissed her, since that afternoon of the amniocentesis. Not giving into the physical attraction was for the best. But she couldn’t deny how another part—her heart, perhaps—wanted one more kiss, one more taste of him.
That desire…temptation…had nothing to do with logic or sensibility. No happily ever after was waiting for them, but that didn’t stop her from wanting a future with him.
Now more than ever.
His charming, toe-curling smile sent flutters erupting in her stomach.
She smiled back.
Her fingers, however, wouldn’t do as her brain commanded. Somehow, she adjusted his cummerbund without making a complete fool of herself. Now to fix his tie.
“Better now?” he asked.
He was so close to her. Only her pregnant belly kept them from getting any closer. “Almost.”
She ignored the warmth emanating from him. Ignored the beating of his heart when her arm touched his chest. Ignored his soap-and-water scent that threatened to drive her wild.
Holding her breath, Laurel finally straightened his bow tie. “All finished.”
“I’m not.”
Brett’s lips touched hers. Everything she’d been holding in, pretending not to feel, rushed to the surface. An eruption of emotion and feelings that couldn’t be contained a second longer. She’d tried to tell herself she didn’t want him, that he hadn’t mattered to her, that he was only the father of her child. But she did, and he had, and he was so much more than that.
He deepened the kiss, and she followed his lead, willing to go wherever he wanted to take her. There was no yesterday, no tomorrow. Only now. As she leaned into him, he pulled her as close as her tummy allowed. Heat pooled deep within her, making her want what she couldn’t have.
Don’t think about that.
She savored the feel and taste of him.
Brett drew the kiss to an end. “For luck.”
For keeps.
Her senses heightened. Every nerve ending tingled.
Laurel struggled to regain her breath, her control. Her pulse rate slowed; her heart stopped pounding. If only she could control the situation as well…
The doorbell rang.
Brett’s grin widened. “Perfect timing.”
That was a matter of opinion. An odd mix of emotions ran through her. Disappointment, relief, confusion, and regret.
He shrugged on his jacket before extending his arm. “Ready to welcome guests to our not-so-humble abode?”
♥ ♥ ♥
Two hours later, Brett spoke to guests, letting them know how much MGI valued them. The party was going great, but he’d lost track of Laurel. She had to be here, but where?
“Great party, Brett.” Ryland Guyer, aka Ry, the face and future CEO of Guyer Gear, patted him on the shoulder. They hadn’t seen each other since the tacky wedding and reception in Reno but
had spoken over the phone. “Thanks for the invite. My father sends his regrets, but he’s looking forward to seeing you at the next board meeting.”
“Give him my regards.” Brett noticed Ry favoring his right side. The bronze medal winner at Sochi had injured himself during a World Cup race, and he’d missed competing at the Winter Games in PyeongChang. “Will you be there?”
“Probably.” Laughing, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Spending lots of time in Portland these days.”
That sounded like the last place Ry wanted to be, but Brett understood. The guy was used to skiing and training year-round, not being stuck at home. “When will you be back on skis?”
“A few more months.” His eyes brightened. “I can’t wait, but I’m trying to stay busy doing PT, hanging out at Guyer Gear, and watching my investments grow thanks to you.”
Brett bowed. Ry and his dad both had personal accounts with him. “We aim to please at MGI.”
“Keep it up. Don’t want to have to work forever.” Ry winked. “Congrats to you and Laurel.”
“Thanks, but you know?”
“I might be a jock, but I can count months.” Ry joked. “The two of you made a striking couple at the reception, but who would have thought one of Henry’s birthday adventures would lead to the two of you having a baby?”
Not Brett. “Life works in mysterious ways.”
“Just like Henry,” Ry said. “See you around.”
As Ry walked away, people stared at him. Not surprising given the guy was a world-class athlete and model.
Brett worked his way through the house searching for Marvin Crenshaw, one of their biggest investors. The elderly man had made his money in timber and real estate. He owned a ranch and a winery in the Willamette Valley and a resort in Bend. He was also a royal pain in the neck, but his account balance more than made up for his salty attitude.
Brett caught sight of the tall, lean man wearing his trademark Stetson. Standing at Mr. Crenshaw’s side was a grinning Laurel.
Brett’s heart rate sped up. He thought he’d imagined her looking like a goddess earlier, but he hadn’t. His breath came in gasps.
She glowed, her skin radiant. Her updo accentuated her graceful, ballerina-like neck. Her only jewelry was a pair of pearl stud earrings. She didn’t need anything else. And the dress…
The Wedding Lullaby Page 13
