by Beth Yarnall
He set the towels on the coffee table. “Here you go.” He held his arms out. “I’ll hold her while you dry off.”
“Do you even know how to hold a baby?”
“Of course I do. I even know how to change a diaper.”
“Don’t tell me you’ve got a secret baby holed up somewhere.”
“Hell no. My parents are foster parents, and they frequently get babies to care for. I know my way around babies as well as you do I’d imagine.”
He could tell she didn’t believe him, but she handed him the baby anyway, watching all the while to make sure he didn’t drop her. He easily repositioned Poppy so she wasn’t pressed against his wet shirt. He moved the edge of the blanket back and got his first look at her. She resembled Lucy so much it blew him away. Except for the red hair. Where had that come from?
“Her hair is red,” he blurted out.
“Just like my grandma’s. Are you sure you’re okay there?”
“We’re fine.” He stood there staring down at Poppy who stared right back. And then she smiled at him, and damned if she wasn’t the most perfect baby he’d ever seen. “She likes me better than you do.”
Lucy glanced up from rubbing the water out of her hair to find Cal and Poppy grinning at each other. He looked so strange and yet so right, standing there soaking wet, holding her baby, that it made her chest pinch. If things had gone differently between them, Poppy might have had him for a father instead of Kevin. She blotted at the sudden tears that sprang to her eyes, disguising the gesture as checking for mascara smudges.
“Well, hello there, sweet pea. You’re as pretty as your momma, aren’t you?” Cal’s low, honeyed voice made Poppy giggle. He was devastating to ladies of any age.
“You’ll flirt with any female.”
“Nah, just the good-looking ones.”
And that right there had her worrying she’d made a mistake in coming here and agreeing to marry Cal. He’d earned his bad-boy reputation honestly. She’d been hurt by him before. She couldn’t bare the thought of him hurting Poppy as well if she got too attached to him. What was she thinking, bringing a new person into her daughter’s life who not only wouldn’t go the distance, but could potentially disappoint her? This was going to be a disaster.
But what choice did she have?
She must have traipsed back and forth in the rain between Cal’s front door and her car about eighty times, mumbling to herself like a crazy person, before she’d gotten up the nerve to knock. Once she had it was like someone had popped an invisible balloon inside of her filled with tension and apprehension. Maybe this wouldn’t be the disaster she expected it to be. Maybe they could keep everything businesslike and cordial and in a year’s time she’d be on her way with enough money socked away that she could move her and Poppy as far away from Kevin as possible.
She dried herself off as best she could, all the while keeping a sharp eye on Cal. He was good with Poppy, so natural. He hadn’t talked much about his family when they were together. But then they hadn’t done much more than screw each other’s brains out every chance they got. Talking had pretty much been limited to your place or mine?
When she was sure she was as dry as she was going to get, she walked over to the sofa where Cal sat with her daughter. He seemed completely oblivious to how his wet clothes would ruin the leather. But then he could just buy himself a new one the way other people replaced holey socks.
Lucy held her hands out. “I can take her now.”
“We’re fine. Want a drink?”
“I want my daughter.” She still wasn’t over Kevin’s threat, she realized. It was as though Kevin hung in the air above her, waiting to snatch Poppy away the moment she turned her back.
“Sure.” Cal gave Poppy over, eyeing Lucy like she was the one who might disappear. “Want a drink, something to warm you up?”
“That would be nice. Thanks.”
Cal rose and went over to the bar in the corner. He moved with the grace and power of a predator. Long and lean, his body never ceased to draw her attention and every other woman’s in the room. She’d been so proud to be with him, thinking herself something special. Now she was going to be his wife.
“Why me?” she asked, sitting down and adjusting Poppy in her lap.
He turned with two tumblers half full of amber liquid in each hand. He offered her the one with ice. She couldn’t help but be surprised that he remembered how she liked her drink.
He sat next to her on the sofa. “I’m assuming you’re asking me why I asked you to marry me.”
“I wouldn’t put it like that. You didn’t really ask me. It was more of an offer like you’d put on a house or a car. But yeah, why me and not, well, anyone else?”
“Oh, shit.” He set his glass on the table with a thunk. “Hold on. Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”
She followed him out of the room with her gaze. He was acting so strangely tonight. But then this whole thing was strange, from the way he’d made his proposal to the way she’d accepted.
He came back into the room and headed straight for her, and then he did the most astonishing thing—he dropped to one knee in front of her. He took the glass from her and clasped her hand between both of his.
“What are you doing?” She couldn’t help the panic in her voice. And she really wished she had three hands so she could knock back that drink.
“Lucy Monroe, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
“What are you doing? Get up.”
“Not till you give me an answer.”
“I already said I’d marry you. This isn’t necessary.”
“Yes, it is. Now are you going to give me an answer or not?” He actually looked kind of nervous.
“This isn’t real. None of this is real. What are you trying to do here?” Get her hopes up? Make her feel as though this was the beginning of a real engagement that would become a real marriage? This was insane. He was insane.
“It’s as real as this.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, signature blue box, and her heart rate doubled. Then he lifted the lid, and she thought her heart might stop altogether. The most beautiful cushion cut diamond surrounded by sapphires winked up at her.
“I don’t understand.” She flipped the box lid closed, unable to stand how incredibly perfect the ring was. “This doesn’t make any sense. Why are you doing this?”
“We need a story to tell people. How you came over and we were sitting here having a quiet night in during a rainstorm and then I proposed and you accepted. Only you haven’t done your part yet.” He opened the box again. “If you don’t like the ring, we can exchange it.”
Poppy made a grab for the ring, which Lucy blocked just in time.
“Well, Poppy seems to like it. Don’t you, sweet pea?” He tweaked Poppy’s nose, making her giggle. “Are you going to make me stay down here until my legs go numb?” he asked Lucy.
Lucy stared at the ring, which was so dang beautiful it made her eyes water.
“Oh, damn, darlin’. Don’t cry. You hate it. I get it.” He snapped the lid closed. “We’ll get you another one.”
“No, you big dumb cowboy. I love it, but I can’t accept it.”
“Why not?”
“I can’t answer your question until you answer mine. Why me?”
“I trust you.”
Well, it wasn’t poetry or flowers, but it was something he never gave idly. And he’d answered quick enough that she believed him. She supposed it was enough. It wasn’t like she expected him to profess his undying love for her. She never would’ve believed it anyway.
She slowly stuck her left hand out. “Then yes, I will marry you.”
He reopened the box and took the ring out. Poppy made another swipe for it, but he slipped it on Lucy’s finger before the baby could get a hold of it. It fit perfectly, and her eyes started filling up all over again.
“God, darlin’, you’re killing me with those tears.” He swiped the tear that escaped down her cheek wit
h the pad of his thumb, following it with a kiss. “It won’t be so bad, I promise. You might actually like being married to me.”
She sniffed, waving his words away. “No, it’s not that. I just can’t believe what we’re going to do. It’s crazy.”
“It is. It’s completely insane.”
“While we’re talking about crazy, improbable things, do you think it would be okay if Poppy and I move in here before the wedding? My lease is up at the end of the month, and it doesn’t really make sense for me to pay the extra expense of a month-to-month lease. You know, if we’re going to be married soon.”
She held her breath. This was too much to ask. It was a complete betrayal of his trust not telling him the real reason she needed a new place to live. But the fact was, she was too ashamed to tell him how bad things were for her. She’d lost the only babysitter she could afford, which meant she couldn’t go to work tomorrow. And she couldn’t look for a new job without someone to watch Poppy. Not to mention she’d be homeless at the end of the month.
“That’s next week,” he said, still on bended knee.
“Yes, I know.” She shook her head. “It’s okay. Never mind. I’ll make it work.”
“No. It’s fine. You can move in whenever you like.”
She let out a heavy, relieved breath. “Thank you. That’s very generous of you.”
“Now I have a question for you.” He grabbed his drink and stood up. “Why did you agree to marry me?”
CHAPTER FOUR
Ah, yes. He would ask that. Nothing was ever easy or taken at face value with Cal. He always looked at cause and effect. He hadn’t gotten to where he was in business without examining things from every angle before coming to a decision or making a commitment. She supposed she should’ve been relieved he took the same care in his personal life, however impersonal this marriage really was.
He’d opened his home to her in her most desperate time. Whatever he was getting out of this marriage, she was getting far more. It wouldn’t be fair not to let him know exactly what he was getting himself into. She only hoped he wouldn’t back out once he learned just how screwed up her life was and how much of it she was bringing to his doorstep.
“Well,” she began. “I need the money. If I could find a job with the same pay, hours, and perks, I’d take it.”
He swallowed a rather large amount of his drink. “No doubt.”
“I recently lost my babysitter, so I’ll have to look for a new one right away. Which brings up another question—when will I start getting paid?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Well, see, I kind of need to. Without someone to watch Poppy, I can’t go in to work tomorrow.” She hated how reedy and needy her voice sounded.
He refilled his drink and then hers. She hadn’t realized she’d drained the glass.
“Darlin’, I’d really appreciate it if you’d get to the part where you answer my question. Why did you agree to marry me?”
She looked down at Poppy, who had fallen asleep with her little fist in her mouth. She’d do anything for her baby. Anything. She gulped back more liquid courage and forged on.
“I’m getting to that.”
“Is it all about the money?”
“No.”
“Then what’s it about? Cuz I’ve got to tell you, darlin’, you look like a woman running from trouble. I think as your husband-to-be I should get a heads up, don’t you?”
She went for another swallow only to find her glass empty. He offered her another refill, which she accepted. Admitting to Cal how completely stupid she’d been about everything and throwing herself at his mercy had to be one of the lowest moments of her life. A couple more sips and she might be able to get it all out. As long as she didn’t look at him. Just look at Poppy.
She drained the glass once more, but this time instead of refilling it, he pried it from her hand and set it on the table.
“My mother would watch Poppy for me while I went to work,” she began. “It wasn’t the best situation, but she was the only babysitter I could afford. It’s hard to turn down free, you know?” She glanced up at him to find him watching her with that Cal intensity that both thrilled and unnerved her.
“What happened with your mother?”
“I was late picking Poppy up. I had to make up the time at work that it took to go into Dallas.”
The time it took her to come to his office and ask for her old job back, Cal realized. There was more going on here than losing a babysitter. He believed her that it wasn’t all about money. If it took all night, he’d get to the bottom of it.
“When I got to her house,” she continued, “there was a car I didn’t recognize in the driveway. It was Kevin’s.”
So this was about her son-of-a-bitch ex. Great.
“He wasn’t supposed to be there. But Mother let him in to see Poppy. He doesn’t have visitation. To my mother, a family is a unit no matter what. She took his side against me. If I leave Poppy with her, she’s going to let Kevin see her.”
“Why doesn’t he have visitation? Because of his arrest for bigamy?”
“That’s partly why. Also he’s threatened to take Poppy back to Utah with him. I’m afraid he’ll make good on that threat, and if he does, I might never get to see my daughter again.”
Something wasn’t jiving here. But her fear that her ex would take her baby was very real. She was terrified. It was that terror—way more than the need for money and the flexible-hours bullshit—that had driven her to accept his offer. The disappointment he felt over that revelation surprised him. He knew she hadn’t agreed because she loved him or even wanted him. He was literally her last and only resort. But son of a bitch. A part of him had hoped she might care for him at least a little.
“That’s one of the reasons I asked about moving in early,” she admitted. “The gates and security. I promise we’ll stay out of your way. You’ll hardly know we’re here. Poppy’s a very good baby. We’ll clean up—”
He put a hand up to stop her. “You’re not a guest here, Lucy. You’re going to be my wife. This is going to be your home as much as mine.”
“Okay. I just don’t want you to think I’ll take advantage.”
“Stop acting like I’ll kick you and Poppy to the curb for the slightest infraction. As long as you wear my ring, you have a place here.” He wanted to add that as long as she wore his ring she had a place in his life and his heart, but he didn’t think she could handle much more pressure than she was already under.
His instinct told him there was more to the story, something to do with the ex. Maybe the feelers he put out earlier that day would pay off and he’d get a look at the whole picture and know exactly what he was up against.
She shifted Poppy to the couch next to her and adjusted the blanket around her. She was a devoted mother to her daughter. It had occurred to him more than once that Poppy could be his. He and Lucy had certainly been careless more than a time or two. If things had gone differently between them…
She glanced down at the ring on her finger. He’d spent nearly the entire afternoon looking for the right ring, betting against the odds that she’d agree to marry him. Maybe it wasn’t fashionable to have colored stones in an engagement ring, but the sapphires reminded him of her eyes. She said she liked it, but she kept staring at it oddly, like it didn’t quite fit her.
“Thank you,” she said, eyes still on the ring. “I promise I’ll do my best to uphold our bargain and be the kind of wife you need me to be.”
He grabbed the bottle of whiskey and splashed more into each of their glasses. She was acting like a wounded puppy, and it pissed him off. He wanted the Lucy who went toe-to-toe with him and gave as good as she got. So maybe he’d have to draw that Lucy out.
“What kind of wife do you think I need?” he asked.
“Well,” she started and then took a sip. “You said you needed a hostess, someone to hold dinner parties?”
“That’s right.”
“I
’m a fairly good cook, but I think it would probably be best if we had the dinners catered.”
“And what about the charity balls? You do know how to dance, don’t you?”
“I…ah…know how to sway…”
She finished off her drink, so he refilled her glass. He wondered if she’d realized it yet that she was too drunk to drive home.
“Do you know anything about corporate wives?” he asked.
“I’m not sure if I’ve met very many.”
“And your wardrobe. We’re going to have to make some changes. That blouse you’re wearing, besides being cut too low—” but not low enough for his taste, “—is too small. I can see half your bra.”
She glanced down at her chest, then her head popped up. The fire was back in her eyes just as he intended. “You cannot see half my bra. It gapes a little, but it’s not obscene.”
“Darlin’, from where I’m sitting, my eyes have practically gotten to second base with you. And your skirt—”
“What about my skirt?”
“It’s tight enough for when we’re at home. Personally the office sex kitten look does a lot for me, but it sends the wrong message to every other man who is not your soon-to-be husband.”
“Look, I know I’ve put on some weight—”
“Yeah, and you put it in all the right places. That’s what counts.” He ran his gaze over her the way he’d been wanting to ever since he’d seen her again this afternoon. She flushed under his gaze. “You’re making me want to add an addendum to the option we discussed in my office.”
Her gorgeous mouth dropped open for a second and then she rebounded. “You’re a pig.” She didn’t sound half as pissed off as she would’ve been if she wasn’t so intoxicated.
“I can’t help it. I’m a male pig. And you, darlin’, are very female.”
“I have a question about that option.” She downed the last of her whiskey and pushed her glass at him for more. He obliged. “How open to options is it?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean just how many option clauses do you have open?” She was slurring her words now.
“Just the one, darlin’. Just the one.”
