In Want of a Wife

by Noelle Adams

  His smile was a real one.

  He was having a good time.

  That fact went right to her head.

  “Are you always this competitive?” he asked, accepting his second-place status without grudge.

  She had to catch her breath before she responded, and she used the time to write a One on the first sticky note for her and a great big Two on the second one for Vince.

  She handed it to him with a grin. “You’re the one who started running to try to beat me to the door when I was clearly here first.”

  “Hey, it’s not my fault you were slow.” He took his Two and slapped it on his shirt like an ironic badge of honor. “But I was mostly just trying to get you going.”

  “You did get me going. There was no way I was going to let you win this time.”

  “Being first in line isn’t really winning.”

  “It’s winning at this moment.”

  He laughed again. “So back to my question. Are you always this competitive, or is it just me who brings it out?”

  “Oh, I’m always this way. Ask anyone. My sisters refused to play board games with me as kids because I always took them too seriously.”

  “I can imagine. Did you burst into tears every time you lost?”

  “No! Of course not. I almost never lost, but when I did, I demanded an immediate redo of the game and made sure I won the second time.”

  Vince was leaning against the other side of the doorframe, giving her a smile that was almost fond. “No wonder they gave up on playing with you. Did you ever play sports?”

  “Yeah. I swam on a swim team and played basketball in high school. I was good.”

  “I bet you were. You didn’t play in college?”

  “No. I wasn’t top tier or anything, and honestly college sports take up too much time. I was already working with my dad in the store when I started college, so I didn’t have much time for extracurriculars.”

  “Was that because you wanted to or because he wanted you to?”

  “Eh. Both, I guess. My mom has great taste and loves antiques, and she’s really good with customers, but she doesn’t have a head for business, so my dad was very happy when Jane and I got old enough to help so he didn’t have to do it all. But I’ve loved the store ever since I was tiny. I used to explore for hours, feeling like I was searching for treasure. So it was what I wanted to do too.”

  “Have you never thought about moving away? Doing something entirely different?”

  “I’ve thought about it. But what I love most are antiques. So if I had to move, I’d try to find a similar sort of job. Why would I do that when I already have the job I love the most.”

  “And you don’t mind working with your family?”

  “No. Why would I?”

  “I don’t know. It just seems like most people want to get away eventually.”

  She shrugged, wondering if he thought she was childish or unnatural for never trying to get distance from her family. “Maybe. But I have no reason to. It’s not like I live in the same house as my parents. We can live in the same town and work together, and I can still have enough distance. I don’t need hundreds of miles between us. Besides, they need me. I’m not going to just walk out on them.”

  Vince didn’t say anything, and his expression looked interested but not skeptical, so he must not think she was too strange.

  “I guess you never would have moved close to your mom if you hadn’t needed to,” Liz said.

  Vince’s mouth twisted slightly. “I wasn’t that far away from her to begin with. Blacksburg is less than two hours away.”

  “I know. I just meant you wouldn’t have moved to the same town and started working with her if you’d had a choice.”

  “I did have a choice. You really think I’m a selfish bastard?”

  “No. Sorry. No. I didn’t mean it to sound that way. I was just thinking we’re different, and that’s one of the ways it shows. You came back when you needed to, but I never left.”

  She wasn’t sure why she was even talking about this, and it was making her self-conscious. So she shut up.

  Vince was quiet too.

  They stood in the silence of the morning for a few minutes, occasionally looking at each other.

  She wasn’t sure why Vince unsettled her the way he did. She never knew what to expect in terms of her emotions, and so she could never prepare herself for him.

  “What are you after this morning?” Vince asked at last.

  Her mouth twitched. “You really think I’m going to tell you?”

  “So you do have something in mind you want?”

  “Actually, not really. There’s supposed to be some good stuff here but nothing I absolutely have to have, so my competitive instincts should be fairly reined in. I may not buy anything right now unless I find a great deal. I’ll come back on the last day and see what’s left that’s been reduced in price. You should be safe right now from my competitive instincts.”

  He chuckled, his eyes resting on her face.

  Her heart did a silly skipping thing in her chest.

  “Did your mom send you here to get something?” she asked.

  “You think I’m going to tell you if you won’t tell me?”

  “Just wondering.”

  “She actually didn’t. She told me to go and grab anything that looks good and that isn’t too expensive.” He shook his head. “She has more faith in my ability to spot good antiques than I do.”

  “You seem to have done okay so far.”

  “You think so? Thanks. I’ve been studying my ass off, trying to get up to speed. But it’s not something you can pick up overnight.”

  “No. It’s not. But you seem to be doing fine.”

  She was surprised and strangely fluttery at the idea of his studying antiques so he could do a good job with his mom’s store. She wasn’t exactly sure why she was responding this way, but she couldn’t deny it.

  The most she could do was hide it from him since it would be very embarrassing if he found out she was feeling this way.

  Another car pulled up, and a couple Liz was friendly with came up to get in line, so the conversation shifted with the newcomers.

  Liz still felt like Vince was watching her sometimes, but she could never catch him doing it, so it might have just been her imagination.

  VINCE HAD NO IDEA WHAT he found so fascinating about Liz Berkley, but after six weeks it wasn’t going away.

  He was no longer annoyed by this response to her.

  He was rattled.

  Knocked off his feet.

  He’d tried staying away from her, and he’d tried keeping her at a comfortable distance. Neither strategy worked. Even when he wasn’t around her, his thoughts were filled with her.

  So he’d been looking forward to seeing her at the estate sale this morning, and he hoped he hadn’t come across as too much of a besotted idiot.

  He didn’t like to be this way—so out of control—but he wasn’t sure what he could do about it except hold on to the last threads of the person he’d always believed himself to be.

  Maybe if he could have sex with her, this obsession would finally pass.

  She was attracted to him too. He was sure of it. She might not like him, but there was something fierce and carnal that radiated between them.

  She might not be completely opposed to having sex with him either.

  It was something to think about.

  Liz wasn’t as laser focused at this sale since there was evidently nothing here she was dead set on obtaining. So when the door finally opened and the first group was allowed into the house, she slanted him a playful look over her shoulder as she started toward the dining room.

  “Tell me what you’re heading for,” he said, coming up beside her, “and I’ll race you for it.”

  She laughed, the sound a small victory. “You’re out of luck today. I’m just going to make a leisurely circuit and see what I see.”

  “Then you won’t mind if I make the
circuit with you. I don’t want to miss out on a treasure.”

  “If there’s a hidden treasure here, I’m going to grab it first.”

  They walked around the lower floor, and Liz stopped in front of several items but didn’t claim anything. The furniture was all modern replicas of antique styles, and the paintings were evidently not valuable enough to tempt her. She lingered longer over a few pieces but didn’t try to buy them, so they might be ones she’d look for later after the prices had lowered on the last day. Vince did try to look for himself, trying to think of what his mother might like to acquire, but nothing he saw seemed worth the trouble of buying and hauling home.

  He asked Liz a couple of questions along the way, and she answered him without hesitation, even though she might have had a few qualms about educating the competition.

  She obviously loved antiques and the whole business with a full-throated passion he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt for anything.

  The recognition hit him strangely. Made him feel odd.

  After a while, he decided Liz might get annoyed if he trailed her the whole time, so he went off on his own to look around the upper floor.

  He found a small mantle clock from the thirties that was dirt cheap, so he picked it up. The lines were good and the mechanism was original. It needed to be shined up and a few quick fixes, but once that was done, they’d be able to ask a lot of money for it.

  Otherwise, he wandered aimlessly, and even though he tried to stay away from Liz, he somehow ended up in the bedroom where she was.

  She was kneeling on the floor next to a small wooden box that had delicate flowers painted on the top. She was stroking the top of it.

  “Find something good?” he asked, standing above her.

  She gave a little jerk, as if she hadn’t been aware of his presence. “Isn’t it pretty?”

  He knelt down beside her so he could see it better. There was a thick area rug beneath them, so they weren’t kneeling on the hardwood floor. “Is it valuable?” he asked, intrigued by her reaction to the small, simple box.

  “Is that always your first question?” Despite the words, her voice was light and not particularly sharp. “I asked if it was pretty.”

  “Oh. Yeah. Of course it’s pretty. You like it?”

  “Yeah.” She turned to smile at him, her hand still resting on the lid of the box. “I love boxes and trunks and chests and jewelry boxes. Anything with a lid and space inside.”

  “Really? Why do you like them so much?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve just always loved them. You should have seen my room as a kid. It was filled with all these boxes—most of them totally worthless.” She sighed and focused on the box again. “This one isn’t really valuable. It’s probably only about twenty years old, and the artwork is done by hand but not by anyone important. But I still love it. I might just buy it for myself.”

  “You should, if you like it that much. They’re not asking that much for it.”

  “I know. I probably will.” She looked at him again, her expression changing. “What did you find?”

  He showed her the clock.

  “That’s a good find,” she said, sounding completely sincere. “It needs some work, but nothing specialized. When it’s cleaned up, someone will buy that for a good price.”

  “That’s what I was hoping.” He felt a ridiculous rush of pride and pleasure at her affirmation. The kind of response a boy would have to a pat on the head.

  What the hell was wrong with him?

  “I didn’t see anything else,” he said, trying to sound normal and not sure he succeeded.

  “There’s not much else here.”

  “No clothes at this one?”

  “No. Well, there are plenty of clothes but just normal stuff. Nothing vintage or designer.”

  “No wedding dress?”

  “No.” A smile hovered on the corners of her lips like the most enticing secret. “Not this time.”

  “What did your folks think of that wedding dress?”

  “Well. Uh...”

  “You didn’t give it to them?” He found this side of her fascinating and wanted desperately to know it more fully.

  “No. I couldn’t. I bought it with my own money and kept it.”

  “What did you do with it?”

  “Right now it’s hanging against a wall in my bedroom so I can look at it all the time.” She laughed irrepressibly at herself. “I think Em must be rubbing off on me. Did you see that wedding dress hanging in the empty room of her place?”

  “No! I must have missed it.”

  “Next time she invites you over, be sure to check it out. It’s gorgeous, and it’s the only thing in the room.”

  “I thought she wasn’t planning to get married.”

  “She’s not. But she wanted the wedding dress anyway. So maybe she was the one who inspired me about my own dress. I’ll eventually have to put it up somewhere so it can stay in good condition. Or, if I feel too guilty about keeping a dress I don’t need, I’ll give it to the store and make a commission off it.”

  “Would you wear it to your own wedding?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. It would need some alternations and... who knows?”

  “Who knows what?”

  “Who knows if I’ll even get married?”

  They were still kneeling together on the floor of the bedroom in the middle of an estate sale, and neither of them seemed aware of the inappropriateness of the location for a long conversation. “Is that something you want? To get married?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. If I find the right guy. I’m not in a rush or anything, but I’m not set against it. Not everyone gets married. I’m sure it will be fine either way. I wanted the dress regardless.”

  “Yeah. I can see that.”

  Someone else came into the room just then, and it appeared to remind Liz of their location. With a self-conscious laugh, she pushed herself up to her feet, rubbing her back as if it were sore. She leaned down to put her hand on the box, clearly claiming it as hers as the man made a brief tour of the room and then left.

  Then Liz stepped into the hall to call someone in to put a sticker on the box as a sign that it had been sold. “There’s a basement here,” she said. “I guess we should check it out, just to be sure there’s nothing there.”

  “Sounds reasonable.”

  They headed down to the finished basement, but there wasn’t much there—just some oversized furniture, basic electronics, and a lot of board games. Someone could stock a family room with the furnishings, but they were of no interest to antique hunters.

  Liz shook her head, leaning against a wall around the corner from the stairs and staring out into the yard. “Pretty disappointing for an estate sale of this size.”

  “The listing was deceptive.” Vince leaned against the wall beside her. “But I guess that’s probably the way it goes.”

  “Yeah. Searching for antiques and collectibles is a lot of work and frustration and only the occasional thrill.”

  “Very encouraging. Thanks.”

  She chuckled. “Might as well get used to it now, if you’re going to do this for any length of time.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Are you?”

  “Am I what?” It was a genuine question. He’d been admiring the graceful curve of Liz’s neck and the way it eased down into the swell of her breasts, and he’d momentarily lost track of their conversation.

  “Planning to do this for any length of time.”

  He blinked, mentally catching up again. “Oh. Yeah. I don’t know. For a while. As long as my mom needs me. So far, it’s been better than I thought.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.” He was surprised to realize he meant it. Everything he’d thought would be frustrating about the move had gotten better as he adapted.

  And the fact that he could see Liz so often made even the mundane more exciting.

  “Have you found something yet that takes your breath away
?” Liz asked, turning to face him more fully.

  Vince froze, momentarily dazed. Had she somehow managed to read his mind?

  “An antique or piece of art or something?” Liz added, bringing clarity to his unspoken question.

  “Oh. No. I don’t think so. Definitely not like you and the box or the dress.”

  “Well, you’re never going to find something like that if you don’t open up a little.”

  “Open up?” He was standing stiffly now, his chest tightening with either fear or anticipation.

  “Open up. To feelings. Let go, like we were talking about with books. You know exactly what I’m talking about, so don’t stare at me like I’m crazy or something.”

  “I’m not staring like you’re crazy. I’m just not sure it’s... me. To get exhilarated over a box or a dress.”

  “It doesn’t have to be one of those things. Those are my things. What are your things? What exhilarates you that way? That’s what you need to figure out, and then you need to... let yourself go a little or you’ll never really embrace them.”

  Vince couldn’t look away from her now, and his body was tightening with more than emotion. She might as well have been talking about herself.

  Because she was what got his feelings in an uproar. She was what he wanted to look at every day, touch, caress, bury himself inside.

  She was the only thing that had exhilarated him in a really long time.

  Her cheeks flushed slightly and her eyelids dropped. “What?”

  “What, what?”

  “Why are you looking at me that way? It’s not that strange to get excited about things, to really get into them.”

  “I don’t think it’s strange.” His voice was huskier than normal, and he knew why. His pulse was throbbing in his throat, his wrists, his ears.

  And now his groin.

  “Then what?”

  “You really don’t know?”

  Her eyes flew up, and he saw the moment that she recognized how he was feeling. “Oh.”

  “Oh,” he repeated, turning slightly so his body was almost aligned with hers.

  “What was it that turned you on? Searching for antiques or me lecturing you?” Her voice was tart, but she was deeply flushed now, and her chest was rising and falling quickly. She was feeling it too.