A Hard Man to Love

by Delaney Diamond

  “He could be looking for me,” Eva added, trying to make him understand. “From what I can tell, when my mother left California, she never tried to contact him again.” She paused, her voice growing softer. “I’m not like you. I can’t pretend he doesn’t exist.”

  Derrick set his knife next to the fork. “My situation was different, but . . .” She saw how he struggled to get the words out. He unclenched and clenched his hand several times. “I understand the need to know him and meet him. Let me know if you need me to get involved.”

  “I won’t. I can handle this on my own.”

  He looked steadily at her. “You’re my wife. It’s my job to protect you.”

  “I don’t need protecting.”

  “I’m going to do it anyway.”

  She had to admit there was a certain level of comfort in knowing he’d be there if she needed him. He never talked about it, but he still bore the pain of his father’s rejection from years ago. How unfortunate a good support system had not been available to him as a child.

  “I don’t want to fight. We’ve been getting along so well. Let’s pretend I never brought up this topic, and if I need you, I’ll let you know.”

  He picked up the silverware. “Fair enough.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Derrick sat at the head of the conference table at HLC headquarters. It was Thursday night, and he was ready to go home. He’d called Eva earlier to inform her to go ahead with dinner without him, but he now regretted the decision. If he hadn’t insisted on having this meeting, he could be at home now. He’d decided the executive team needed an update on the merger with the Greek shipping company, and the CFO and VP of operations led the after-hours meeting with the details.

  So far, so good. There had been a few hiccups, as were expected, but overall, the alliance was proving to be a good idea. With access to such a large fleet of ships, HLC had gobbled up even more market share and sat on the cusp of becoming the dominant force for the international movement of goods in Europe and the Americas. He already had his mind on expansion, having charged his team to research distribution channels and entry into the next target markets—Asia and Africa.

  Despite all the success and the excitement of accomplishing the goals laid out before his father’s passing, Derrick acknowledged an equal amount of pleasure came from having Eva in his life. In the role of a wife, he couldn’t imagine anyone else doing a better job. She adapted to any social environment. Initially, he could tell she’d felt out of place among the other wives, but gradually she’d relaxed and become the perfect hostess and the guest others looked forward to seeing.

  She took over management of the household, which included overseeing the maintenance on the house, the grounds, and the cars. She also became involved in the charitable organizations the Hoffman estate supported. In addition to attending functions such as award ceremonies and fundraisers, she made sure that any funds dispersed from the estate were spent in accordance with the stipulations in Phineas’s will.

  Her experience in event coordination had also come in handy, making her a popular committee member of several organizations. Not only was she sought after for her ability to plan and coordinate large events with skill, but her knowledge of the industry enabled her to negotiate very favorable terms on events contracts that saved the organizations a lot of money.

  And him . . . well, marriage had changed him. He looked forward to going home now, and while the thought of having a family used to scare him, it no longer seemed daunting. In fact, he liked the thought of having someone to go home to. He’d had to take a few business trips, but when he did, he seldom went a night without talking to Eva when he was out of town.

  He always returned as soon as possible, even if it meant arriving in the middle of the night. When he did, as he eased into the bed, she would awaken and roll over toward him.

  “You’re home,” she’d whisper.

  “Yes, sweetheart, I’m home,” he’d whisper back and pull her into his arms.

  As the CFO droned on about the increased market share and showed graphs of the revenue HLC anticipated earning in the coming years, Derrick smiled to himself. He and Eva refrained from discussing the past, but that didn’t stop them from arguing like an old married couple. For example, during their conversation at dinner a few nights ago, he broached the subject of hiring a nanny again. She’d insisted they didn’t need one. An argument ensued from there.

  Then there was the time when he climbed into bed and had the displeasure of rolling in crumbs. He’d told her for the umpteenth time not to eat in bed, and she’d yelled back she couldn’t help it and was eating for two. Right afterward, she burst into tears, and he, feeling like a heel, had ended up apologizing.

  Somehow all their arguments ended with him apologizing.

  He chuckled, and eleven heads turned in his direction.

  “Was there something you wanted to add, Derrick?” His CFO looked curiously at him from the other end of the table. A multicolored pie chart showed on the screen behind him.

  Derrick had reviewed it all before he allowed the data to be presented to the entire team, so he had no concerns. “No, ah . . . you’ve been doing a good job. Continue.”

  The CFO smiled and turned back to the screen. Using a laser wand, he drew a circle around a slice of the chart. “So, based on our projections, in five years we expect market share to—”

  “You know what?” Derrick interrupted. “It’s late. Why don’t you all go home? You’ve been working hard, and I think this could wait until the morning, don’t you?”

  They all looked around at each other, but no one had the courage to agree with him, as if they thought it was a setup.

  Derrick stood, signaling the legitimacy of his comment. “How about we reconvene tomorrow at noon? We’ll order in some food and make it a working lunch. Any objections?” He didn’t expect any, nor did he plan to entertain any. “All right, then. Review the files carefully and come prepared to discuss and offer suggestions. Good night.”

  The executives had stunned expressions on their faces as he left the room. It didn’t matter to him. As the boss, he could do whatever the hell he wanted, and right now he wanted to get home to see his wife.

  On the way out, he stopped by his suite of offices to get his briefcase. Once he retrieved it, he exited to find his administrative assistant had returned to her post and was making copies.

  She looked up and smiled. “Good night, Mr. Hoffman.”

  “Good night.” Derrick’s steps slowed. “How late are you scheduled to work every day?”

  She looked confused. “I . . . I work as long as you need me to, sir.”

  He smiled. “But how late are you scheduled to work?”

  “Until six.”

  Last he checked, it was almost nine o’clock. “I tell you what, why don’t you go home? And from now on, leave at six. I’ll let you know if I need you to work late.”

  Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times before she finally got any words out. “Oh, thank you. Thank you, Mr. Hoffman.”

  “One more thing. From now on, call me Derrick. Mr. Hoffman was my father.”

  With a smile of pure pleasure, she said, “Yes, sir. I mean Derrick.”

  “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  ****

  At home, Derrick dropped his briefcase in the study and went upstairs. The bedroom was silent, and the television mounted on the wall was on, but had been turned down to mute. After a quick sweep of the other rooms and not finding Eva, he removed his jacket and tie and went in search of her. He found her downstairs in the kitchen.

  Standing at the door, he watched her at the counter as she ate some combination of food to satisfy her strange cravings. Her belly was a little more than seven months swollen—looking like an oversized basketball. She’d never looked more beautiful, and he’d never wanted her more. The feelings rushing through him were so fierce, he remained glued to the floor.

  In that moment, he accepted
what he should have known all along, what he’d refused to accept for fear of leaving himself wide open for hurt and possible humiliation.

  I’m in love with her.

  His throat constricted, as if someone were choking the life out of him. To breathe, he had to undo the top button of his dress shirt. The last thing he ever expected or wanted to do was fall in love with her. He’d fallen prey to the very thing he’d hidden from all his life.

  “Hey, you’re home.”

  The warmth of her smile filled her brown eyes and heated his soul. He still couldn’t move. He swallowed, exerting tremendous effort to clear the passageway in his closed throat.

  I’m in love with her.

  How could he not have seen it before?

  Because he knew the danger of love—or the lack thereof. But it was too late. He was all in.

  By loving her, he handed her the power to hurt him. The same as she’d done when she ended their relationship, though he hadn’t wanted to admit it at the time. The same as his father had done when he rejected his nine-year-old self. The same as his mother had done by endorsing his biological father’s decision to give up his paternal rights so another man could adopt him.

  “Derrick, is something wrong?”

  He shook his head and cleared his throat. “No. Ah, what are you eating?”

  Her eyes lowered from his in embarrassment. “Raspberry jam and Nutella on crackers . . . with a sprinkling of salt.”

  Derrick approached, eyeing her spread on the counter. “Well, at least you left out the bananas this time.”

  “We’re out of bananas,” she said in a morose tone. She puckered her lips into a cute little moue of misery.

  “That’s ’cause you ate them all.”

  “You know I can’t help it. It’s the hormones.” She slipped another cracker into her mouth. Her hair fell into loose waves onto her shoulders. He lifted and fingered a strand before letting it fall back into place.

  Perfect. The perfect woman, right under his nose.

  “So when you mention hormones, it’s all good, but when I do, I get yelled at.”

  Eva arched an eyebrow. “Do I really need to explain to you why?” she asked around a mouthful of food.

  “Have a seat.” Derrick gathered up the two jars, the box of crackers, and the salt. He walked to the small table in the kitchen and took a seat beside Eva.

  “You look tired,” she remarked.

  “Nah, I’m good. I just have a lot on my mind.” Like how he’d managed to fall in love with a woman he’d blackmailed into marrying him. And how did she feel about him now that they’d been married for a while? “How are you feeling today?”

  “Okay, although I felt a little pain around lunchtime.”

  Derrick frowned. “How long did it last?”

  “Don’t worry,” she said, spreading Nutella on a cracker. “It didn’t last long. Just a few minutes. If it happens again, I promise I’ll call the doctor.”

  “You should have called the doctor today.”

  “I knew I shouldn’t have mentioned it.” She sighed. “Derrick, I can’t make a big deal out of every little thing. I can tell they’re getting tired of me already because I keep bugging them, and I still have almost two months to go. The last time we visited the doctor, he said the pregnancy is progressing normally. It was probably gas or something.” She applied the raspberry jam over the hazelnut spread.

  “I’d rather know for sure.” He lifted both of her sock-covered feet onto his thighs. Outside of her belly, there wasn’t much else to indicate Eva was pregnant. She hadn’t gained much weight, but her feet had grown larger, and her ankles started swelling. He removed one sock and started to massage her feet. This is what being in love did to you. It made you sappy and considerate. “And for the record, that’s what they get paid for. If it happens again, promise me you’ll talk to the doctor.”

  She nodded. “I promise.”

  Using circular motions, Derrick dragged his fingers from the toe to the ankle of one foot.

  “Mmm,” Eva murmured. “That feels so good.”

  He continued the same movements, using his thumbs on the sole of her foot, gradually increasing the pressure.

  She moaned. “Oh, that feels so good.”

  Fairly certain there was no need for that tone of voice, Derrick lifted his gaze to Eva’s. The pupils of her eyes had darkened with desire to an even richer brown. “Eva,” he warned, fingers paused on her ankle.

  “We haven’t made love in over a week. That’s a long time.”

  Ten days to be exact. “I know, but I’m trying to ease up on you.”

  “I don’t want you to ease up on me,” she whispered.

  His body tightened, and he suppressed a groan. The words roused his libido, as if it needed rousing. Looking at her pregnant body served as an adequate aphrodisiac on a day-to-day basis, and only through sheer willpower did he manage not to spread her legs at every opportunity.

  “Remember on the last visit, the doctor said it’s okay as long as I’m still comfortable.”

  “I know, but I can tell you don’t have the stamina you used to.”

  With a coy smile, she said, “So we’ll just do it one time.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmured halfheartedly, feeling a rise in his pants already.

  She lowered her feet and rose from the chair. “I’m okay. Really.”

  The red, long-sleeved maternity dress drew attention to her radiant dark skin, and the round neckline emphasized the size of her breasts, enlarged by the effects of her pregnancy. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on them.

  As their eyes met and held, he let his fingers travel lightly up her thighs. With the back of his hand, he stroked the damp material between her legs. A little tremor ran through her, and her eyes glazed over with passion. Slowly, he lowered her panties past her hips and let them fall to the floor.

  “Come here,” he said, patting his thighs.

  With a sultry smile, she lowered onto his legs. Their lips connected instantly, moving gently over one another before becoming more frantic as desire flared between them. He wound his fingers in her hair and tipped her head back so he could pass heated kisses down the length of her neck.

  He nibbled at the soft skin there and then moved to her ear, where he caught the fleshy lobe in his mouth and sucked. The uneven sound of her breath aroused him further, and he pressed his face to her soft throat.

  Peppermint and oatmeal.

  He cupped her full breasts in his hands, and she gasped with pleasure. “Yes,” she whispered as he kneaded the soft mounds, rubbing the flats of his thumbs across the nipples until they came to rigid points.

  He wanted to tell her how he felt. The need to do so built to such a pitch, he undid the buttons on her bodice and plucked one of her breasts from inside the dress, filling his mouth to curtail the urge.

  He had never said the words “I love you” to anyone. Not once in his entire thirty-three years. But this was his woman, his wife, and even if he couldn’t say the words right now, he could show her with his body how much he loved her.

  He hurriedly undid the belt on his trousers and then unzipped his pants. Her fingers gripped his shoulders in an effort to remain steady. Under the dress, his hands helped guide her onto his erection.

  “I love how wet you get for me,” he said tightly.

  “Only you. Only you,” she breathed against his mouth.

  His chest puffed with pride, and he pumped his hips, his hands cupping her backside. Her head fell back as she rocked against him, riding with abandon, clinging to him like a lifeline.

  He lowered his head to the bare breast and plucked the swollen nipple back into his mouth, curling his tongue around it. Her hips moved with more frantic motions. It was hard as hell to hold back when she started getting so excited.

  Their moans came in a synchronized cadence, bouncing off the kitchen walls in their mutual climb to satisfaction.

  “I’m coming . . . I’m comin
g, Derrick.”

  Sweeter words had never been spoken. She came apart, clutching on to his shoulders with a mighty grip. Her brown eyes blazed down at him with passion. He bucked within her, the contractions of her body dragging him toward repletion. One arm fisted around her waist, while his other hand clamped down on the edge of the table to resist clutching her to him with undue force.

  Afterward, when their breathing was back to normal and her breast tucked inside the bodice of the dress, Eva pressed a kiss to his check.

  “I think you needed that as much as I did,” she whispered. He could feel her smile.

  “I guess so.” He turned his head and kissed her mouth. She tasted like raspberry and sweet hazelnut.

  “Ooh.” Eva grabbed her stomach. “I think we woke her.”

  Derrick placed his hand beside Eva’s and felt his baby’s movements. “She’s pissed at you. She must be doing karate chops in there. That’s those Hawthorne genes.”

  “I think she is pissed. And this is Jacob all the way.” She fell silent, and they sat for a while, their palms spread across her belly to track the movements of their unborn child. “She’ll soon be here,” Eva whispered. “I can’t wait.”

  When she stopped moving around, they rose from the chair and fixed their clothes.

  Derrick swooped her up in his arms and headed for the door.

  “Oh, wait, my snack.”

  After a long sigh, Derrick walked back over to the table and bent his knees so she could gather up the items.

  Walking through the house, he warned, “No crumbs in the bed.”

  “It happened one time.”

  “Twice. If you make a mess in our bed, I swear . . .”

  They continued their argument all the way into the bedroom.

  ****

  With a start, Eva awoke in the middle of the night. Sharp pains jabbed at her back and stomach, forcing her to clutch her round belly. They felt like the vicious swipes of a knife, ripping through her, so acute she couldn’t breathe or make a sound for several seconds.

  When she caught her breath, she looked over her shoulder at Derrick’s sleeping form. “Derrick, wake up.”