Fortune's Secret Husband

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Fortune's Secret Husband Page 16

by Karen Rose Smith


  “I forgot all about that. Is there anything you have to prepare for?”

  “No. It’s going to be all about the horse rescue, so there shouldn’t be any curveballs. I was talking to a friend yesterday about the ranch. He’s the manager of the Galloping G, and they’re going to be taking in troubled youth starting in June. We might coordinate some of our efforts. Giving kids a horse to gentle could solve some of their problems, too.”

  “That sounds like a plan. It also sounds like something the Fortune Foundation might want to help fund.”

  “I don’t know. You’re talking about proud men here, who want to run a program their own way. If you accept money from a foundation, there are usually strings attached.”

  She didn’t think these funds were going to work that way, but what did she really know? All she was doing was setting up the office and suggesting programs to aid.

  “I think it’s time we started supper,” she suggested. “Amelia provided baby food, but she also said Clementine liked mac and cheese, so I thought we’d have that, burgers and green beans. With you here, it’ll be that much easier to put it all together. I wasn’t sure if Clementine would sit in her high chair while I did it.”

  “I’ll keep her occupied. That sounds like a great dinner.”

  “You’re looking at me again as if you’re surprised. I am a normal person, Chase. I really do cook. I even knit.”

  He blinked. “You knit?”

  She just rolled her eyes. “I knitted Clementine a baby blanket. What do you think I do on long plane rides?”

  “Read,” he said with a straight face.

  “Come on,” she said, motioning him to the kitchen. “Clementine likes to play with the pots and pans. You can help her clang lids together.”

  In the kitchen, Lucie made sure she kept at least three feet between her and Chase. That wasn’t hard as he raced after Clementine, made sure she was occupied and Lucie started dinner. She also made sure she didn’t look at Chase too often, because if she did, she’d want to kiss him. No, Clementine couldn’t carry tales yet, but Lucie was very aware she was Clementine’s aunt and didn’t want to do anything untoward when she was in her company. Chase seemed to realize that and respected it. Except...

  There were times they couldn’t avoid touching. Lucie dropped an onion. He scooped it up. When he handed it to her, their fingers almost entwined. A muscle memory, that was all it was.

  Lucie’s version of macaroni and cheese involved a white sauce, melting the cheese in it, then pouring it over the macaroni to bake. After that was in the oven, she patted the burgers and inserted them under the broiler.

  “Are steamed carrots okay for you?” Lucie asked. “Clementine loves them.”

  “Carrots are fine with me.”

  “And for dessert, we have cookies Amelia baked, something with oatmeal that’s supposed to be good for Clementine.”

  “Do they taste like dog biscuits?” Chase asked.

  Lucie cast him a look that was in the least scolding, at the most maybe a little coy. “No, they don’t taste like dog biscuits or horse biscuits. They have cinnamon and raisins. If Amelia says they’re good, I’m sure they are.”

  “Do you believe everything she tells you?”

  “Mostly. Why?”

  “I just wondered how that was between sisters.”

  “We bonded together against the boys.”

  “Your brother Charles isn’t married either, is he?”

  “No, the tabloids have gotten that right. He’s been engaged twice.”

  “The reason for the breakups?”

  “He’s not ready. Charles is a go-with-the-flow kind of guy, and I’m not sure he wants to seriously be tied down.”

  “Maybe nobody does,” Chase said. “Maybe everybody wants what they want when they want it. Do you actually know many men or women who could compromise? Just in my work alone, we sometimes have to navigate decisions as if we were in peace negotiations.”

  “I know what you mean, but a marriage shouldn’t be about negotiation. It should be about giving on both sides.”

  They stared at each other while Clementine clinked lids together, like cymbals, cymbals that were going off in Lucie’s head. How did they get into this discussion?

  “Can you watch the burgers for a while?” she asked, changing the subject. “I’ll take Clementine to the bedroom and change her. After that, dinner should be ready.”

  “You know, I can cook, too.”

  “Main dishes?” Lucie asked.

  “Burgers and tuna fish sandwiches.”

  They both laughed.

  “We could probably put a weekly menu together,” she teased and headed for the bedroom.

  Chase had never had more fun, had never enjoyed conversation more, had never realized a child was a constant energy suck. But an adorable one. He and Lucie had spoken hypothetically about having kids, but tonight, acting like a couple with a child, he could actually see himself in the role. What would it be like to come home to Lucie and a little girl, or a little boy? To fit everything else around their children because they would be the most important beings in their world?

  The whole concept was foreign. If this deal went through on the Schultz property, he’d have mega-renovations to do, and that was going to take time. What woman would put up with having her place torn apart, piece by piece, room by room, floor by floor, appliance by appliance? Lucie was used to the best of everything. Oh, she might go on trips to foreign places and make do while she was there, but when she came home, she came home to conveniences and things she might never even ask for, like walk-in refrigerators, the highest-quality ranges.

  He wasn’t sure she knew what she had. She just expected it to be there. He wanted to renovate the ranch house nicely, but not at the highest cost he could find. He wanted to be economical and practical about every renovation he made. And if Lucie chose to live there—

  He blanked that thought away. She wouldn’t. That was the end of it.

  By the time Lucie brought Clementine back to the kitchen, the little girl was fussing.

  “I think she’s just hungry. Let’s get it on the table and see if she’ll eat.”

  Lucie and Chase tried to please Clementine. They really did. But the little girl had missed her nap, and Amelia had warned Lucie that might mean she would be cranky. But Lucie hadn’t wanted to believe it. So she tempted Clementine with bites of burger, spoonfuls of macaroni and cheese, steamed carrots soft enough for her to chew. Their meal was constantly interrupted by a spilled dish, an overturned spoon, macaroni in Clementine’s hair.

  Clementine was squawking now as Chase tried to wipe cheese from her hair.

  “She’s going to need a bath, isn’t she?” he asked.

  “Probably so. I don’t know how much fun that’s going to be. But Amelia included her little bathtub and her toys, so it might calm her down a bit. Do you want to postpone coffee and dessert until I try it?”

  “That sounds like a good idea. I can get the bathtub set up.”

  “Okay, but not too hot.”

  “I’ll check it with my elbow.”

  “Where did you learn that trick?”

  “Some program I was watching one day. I’ll test the water on my wrist, too, and make sure it’s just right. Don’t worry, Lucie, I’ve got this. While you’re giving her a bath, I’ll clean up.”

  They were negotiating, sort of...or were they just compromising? Whatever the case, if Chase kept it up, he’d be a darn good husband. Could he keep a compromising attitude?

  Clementine was not warm and snuggling after her bath, and not even one of the oatmeal cookies could quiet her. Her voice started in a low cry and then built until she was practically screaming.

  Lucie walked her back and forth in the living room. “Amelia told me
she sometimes gets like this. She’s overtired. She’s in a strange place with strange people.”

  “She’s going to make herself sick,” Chase muttered, taking her from Lucie’s arms. “We can’t let her keep this up.”

  “I hate to do it, but I’m going to call Amelia.”

  Amelia answered her cell, sounding breathless. “Is something wrong?”

  “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I don’t know what to do with Clementine. She’s crying and won’t stop.”

  “She has a fussy spell sometimes after supper. Did she eat?”

  “Yes, she did. Some.”

  “Well, good. That’s important,” Amelia explained. “Now all you have to do is get her to sleep. Put her on the phone.”

  “What do you mean, Put her on the phone?”

  “Just bring her to the phone. Quinn will sing her a lullaby and she’ll fall asleep.”

  “Just like that?” Lucie asked.

  “Just like that.”

  Lucie told Chase what her sister had said. He shrugged and carried Clementine to Lucie, who put the cell phone to her ear. She was still wailing at that point, but after about a minute, the sound began to diminish. Lucie could just hear Quinn’s baritone over the speaker phone as he sang to his daughter. Finally the cries vanished into little hiccups. Her eyes started to shut, and Lucie cradled her in her arms.

  When the baby was quiet, Lucie said to Quinn, “You’re a magician.”

  “No, I’m just a dad who knows what to do to make his daughter fall asleep. Now, if that happens again, and sometimes it does, call your friend Chase and have him sing to her.”

  Lucie looked up at Chase, and she couldn’t lie to her sister and brother-in-law. “He’s here.”

  “Well, good,” Quinn said. “Then you definitely don’t need us. We’ll see you tomorrow, Lucie.” And he hung up.

  Lucie stared at her phone. “I think I feel like a babysitting failure.”

  Chase shook his head. “You’re not a failure unless you have to call them again. That is the last thing you want to do.”

  “Hopefully I won’t have to. Let’s put her down for the night.”

  Putting Clementine down for the night lasted for about fifteen minutes. Lucie and Chase had tiptoed out of the bedroom and gone into the kitchen to have a cup of coffee. Lucie was pulling cookies from a container on the cupboard when Clementine began crying again. She and Chase exchanged a look.

  Then she said, “I’ll see if I can quiet her.”

  But there was no quieting Clementine Rose when she didn’t want to go to bed, when she didn’t like sleeping in a strange room, when she wanted her mum and dad.

  Soon Chase peeked into the room. “Bring her out here again. If we play with her for a little while longer, maybe she’ll fall asleep on her own.”

  “Wishful thinking,” Lucie murmured, standing with the crying baby and rocking her back and forth. “Come on, little one. Let’s go see what other toys your mum picked out to send with you.”

  On the sofa, Clementine stuck her thumb in her mouth and held her stuffed elephant, her cheeks still wet from tears. She smiled, however, when Chase took out a hand puppet and danced the dog across her knees. She pulled her thumb from her mouth to yank on the dog’s ears.

  Lucie said, “I’ll get us both some coffee. I think we’re going to need it.”

  And they did, because Clementine just wasn’t going to sleep. Every time they tried to put her down, she began crying.

  Finally Chase decided, “She’s manipulating us, and if she doesn’t sleep tonight, I have a feeling she’ll be a holy terror in the morning.”

  “You know what we haven’t tried yet,” Lucie suggested.

  He sighed. “Me singing her a lullaby. All right. Why don’t we both cuddle on the bed with her and we’ll try it?”

  Lucie gave him a long look.

  “Seriously. We’ll all be comfortable and if she falls asleep, we’ll just let her sleep.”

  It was almost 2:00 a.m. “You don’t mind staying the night?” she asked him.

  “I don’t mind.” His voice was low and sexy, and she couldn’t help wishing he was staying for another reason other than singing a lullaby.

  Bringing a few of Clementine’s toys with her, Lucie sat on the king-size bed—Clementine in the middle. Chase crawled onto the other side, propped up on two pillows. It should seem odd, having him in her bed. In some ways it did. But in other ways, it felt very natural. That scared her. Everything about her situation with Chase scared her. She might as well admit it.

  Clementine picked up rattles, one in each hand, and began shaking them.

  “What lullabies do you know?” Lucie asked him.

  “I don’t know any, but I do know a couple of nursery rhymes. Doesn’t everybody? Let’s try ‘Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.’ But you have to promise not to laugh.”

  Lucie crossed her heart with her hand. “I promise.”

  After a shake of his head and a long, blown-out breath, he began the first line.

  At first Clementine didn’t respond, but then she looked over at him as if somehow recognizing a male voice with a tune in it. Lucie lounged against the pillows too and began rubbing Clementine’s back the way her mum often did hers and Amelia’s when they were little. It was a soothing motion that had settled tears and fears and bad dreams.

  After Chase finished with “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star,” he began with a Disney tune, “When You Wish Upon A Star.” Maybe he thought the heavenly-body theme would put Clementine to sleep.

  To Lucie’s surprise, it did. Clementine was soon nestled in the crook of Lucie’s arm, and her little eyes were closed.

  But would she stay asleep?

  Chase sang for a little longer, then shrugged. In almost a whisper, he said, “She probably doesn’t want to be in that crib all by herself. We should take advantage of her sleeping now in case it doesn’t last long.”

  Chase moved over closer to Lucie, turned on his side and ran his hand through her hair. She could have purred.

  Leaning in even closer, he gave her a deep, long, wet kiss that could have led somewhere else if a child hadn’t slept between them. When he broke away, he was breathing raggedly, and so was she.

  Finally he said, “You’re going to make a wonderful mother.”

  Lucie couldn’t help thinking, And you’ll make a wonderful dad. But she didn’t say the words aloud. If she said them out loud, that could be a dream waiting to come true.

  Was it a dream she should try to capture? Or should she let their marriage be annulled? Should they go their separate ways?

  Maybe in the morning after a few hours’ sleep, the answer would become clearer.

  Chapter Twelve

  When Lucie awakened, Chase was no longer in bed. Had he left?

  Clementine was sleeping soundly. Still, Lucie didn’t want to leave her on the bed when she went to check in the rest of the apartment for Chase. As gently as she could, she lifted Clementine and laid her in the portable crib. The baby seemed unaware of the move. She stuffed her little fist near her chin and made a sighing sound. Lucie made sure the monitor that Amelia had brought along so she could hear Clementine if she was in the other room was turned on high.

  Chase had found the pods to brew coffee and was making himself a mug. He gave her a crooked smile. “Is she still sleeping?”

  “She is. I put her in the crib.”

  She didn’t know what to say to him about last night. It had been nice. More than nice, really.

  Lucie had brought her cell phone into the kitchen. and now she said, “I wonder if I should text Amelia and tell her everything is okay.”

  Chase shook his head. “If you don’t call her, she knows everything’s okay. Let her and Quinn have this time together.”


  “You’re right.” Lucie glanced at her phone, where she saw she had a text. She tapped it. It was from Keaton. He wondered if she’d like to have lunch sometime.

  “Is that from Amelia?” Chase asked.

  “No. I must have missed this last night. It’s from Keaton.”

  Chase frowned. “The guy who took you to that charity event?”

  She nodded.

  Chase took a few steps closer. “What did he want?”

  Her mouth suddenly went dry at the look in Chase’s eyes. It was a possessive look.

  “He wants to have lunch.”

  “Are you going to go?”

  “Possibly,” she answered, not sure at all what she was going to do or even what she should say.

  Chase took the phone from her hands and set it on the counter. Then his hands caressed her shoulders and brought her closer. He didn’t say he didn’t want her to have lunch with Keaton, but that look in Chase’s eyes—

  “So Clementine is sound asleep?” he asked in a husky murmur.

  Lucie nodded to the monitor on the counter. “I’ll hear her if she wakes up.”

  Lucie was already trembling, anticipating his kiss. Last night had been comforting and warm, but this electricity she felt whenever Chase was near her was definitely even better—exciting and extraordinary.

  Although he was close enough to kiss her, he didn’t. He said, “Lying next to you in that bed last night and not being able to really touch you was torture.”

  She did know exactly what he meant. Getting close, yet unable to be totally intimate, created an insufferable longing.

  “We’re close now,” she whispered.

  “I have to be at a meeting with Jeff and my father in forty-five minutes. All hell could break loose.”

  “Maybe you need a little bit of heaven first.” She couldn’t believe she was being this bold. Charles would never believe it of Miss Goody Two-shoes.

  Chase, on the other hand, grabbed on to believing it. He slid his hands into her hair, tipped her face up to his and took her lips in a consuming kiss that forced her to think about nothing but him.

 

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