by Leanne Banks
“Sleep tight,” he said, but it sounded more like a sexy taunt or challenge. Amy suspected she wouldn’t be sleeping well tonight. She had grossly underestimated the effect he had on her.
An hour later, Justin rolled over for the twentieth time. He was still aroused. Although he’d sensed Amy was a passionate woman, he’d had no idea her response would burn his control to cinders so quickly.
Every time he closed his eyes, he tasted her lips and remembered the sensation of her tongue. He felt her breasts begging for his touch. He recalled the way her restlessness signaled her arousal. Every little move she’d made had wound his spring tighter and tighter. It would have taken so little to go further, to push up her shirt and stare at her full breasts before he tasted her nipples with his tongue. It would have taken so little for him to push aside her shorts and feel the inviting moistness between her thighs.
She was his wife.
But she might as well not be.
Giving in to insomnia, Justin pushed back the covers, rose from his bed and flipped on his desk lamp. Turning on his computer, he scrubbed his face with his hand. If he couldn’t sleep, he may as well study stock charts.
The following morning, Amy felt vulnerable and she was angry with herself for the vulnerability. She shouldn’t have gotten so worked up over a kiss. But what a kiss, her honest, feminine and currently unhelpful mind said. She banged her glass of orange juice down, and it sloshed all over the counter.
“Oops,” Nicholas said.
Jeremy giggled. “Oops.”
Together, they chorused, “Oops.”
Her frayed nerves stretched tighter when the twins joyfully chorused, “Justin!”
They were always so happy to see him, she thought, and made a face in the direction of the sink. The problem was she often felt just as childishly happy to see him as the children did.
“Good morning,” Amy said in a muted voice, noticing that his eyes were a little more narrowed than usual, and his hair was slightly mussed. Maybe he hadn’t slept any better than she had, she thought hopefully at the same time she was ashamed for having such dark thoughts. He looked pretty darn good for having had a rough night.
“Morning, boys,” he said cheerily, then offered the same muted tone back at Amy with a nod, “Good morning.”
“G’mornin’, Justin,” Emily said in her sweet, sleepy tone as she spooned cereal into her mouth.
Justin returned the greeting. Amy’s heart softened and she stroked her niece’s hair. “I’ll ask the Colemans if you can borrow their piano again today. Okay, sweetie?”
Her mouth full, Emily smiled and nodded.
“Who are the Colemans?” Justin asked.
“A family down the street. They’ve been kind enough to let Emily use their piano. I think she’s interested in taking lessons.” Amy hadn’t figured out how she would afford a piano or the lessons, but she supposed that was a challenge for another day.
Justin nodded thoughtfully. “I’m heading over to my other home office, and I’m meeting some friends tonight, so I won’t be home until late. You guys, give it your best shot to have a good day.” He paused and met her gaze. “You too, Amy,” he said in a deeper, almost intimate tone that tugged at something deep inside her.
That night, for the sake of sanity, Justin revisited his bachelor roots. He met Dylan at O’Malley’s for beer and a burger.
“Michael will be late,” Dylan said as he joined Justin at a table perfectly positioned for watching the wide-screen television playing the Baltimore Orioles game.
“Problem?” Justin said.
Dylan made a face. “Yeah, he’s getting a home-cooked meal instead of a burger. I wouldn’t be surprised if Kate has another baby soon.”
“So soon?”
“I think they want a big family,” Dylan said, and the look on his face reminded Justin of time spent at the Granger Home for Boys.
“Remember when everybody wanted a big family?” Justin said, taking a drink of beer.
“A big nuclear family,” Dylan said. “We wanted Dad and Mom and a bunch of brothers and a sister or two to attract the girls when we were teenagers.”
“It may not be nuclear, but you technically have a big family,” Justin pointed out. “You’re part Remington, so you’ve got two half-brothers and a half-sister.”
Dylan laughed shortly. “Half is the operative word. Nothing would make them happier than if I disappeared. Especially Grant. He’s the oldest and I know he thinks I’m trying to take over the entire company.”
Justin quirked his mouth in a partial grin. For the most part, Dylan concealed his competitive nature with a well-honed, cool untroubled air. “And you’re not?”
Dylan gave him a sideways glance. “Careful, someone might find out I give a damn after all. I don’t want control of the entire company, just part of it,” he said in a voice that reminded Justin of a shark.
“No wonder Grant doesn’t sleep well at night.”
“Enough about me. How’s married life? How are the perks?” he asked with a sly grin.
“Amy and I haven’t known each other very long, so we’re not to the perks stage yet.” He gave a sigh of frustration. “Besides I’m married to a descendent of Joan of Arc, so she doesn’t believe she has any human needs.”
Dylan winced. “Sorry, bud. But you know even Joan of Arc burned in the end. How’s the rest of it? Are you spending money like water?”
“Not yet,” Justin said, the prospect of uncontrolled spending threatening a bout of indigestion. “I bought something today for one of the kids and I’m setting up accounts for their college education.”
Dylan raised his eyebrows. “This sounds like the real thing to me.”
“The kids are very real,” Justin said with a shrug that belied his true feelings. “Kids take a lot of planning. I always knew that. I didn’t know they could be fun, too.”
“And Amy?”
Justin thought about how responsive she’d felt last night and wanted to growl. “Amy could be a lot of fun if she’d quit trying to save the world for fifteen minutes.”
“Maybe you can get her to save you,” Dylan said with a wicked grin.
Amy sat alone in the darkness of her den. The children were blessedly asleep and she was blessedly alone. Justin still hadn’t arrived home. She should be welcoming these precious moments of solitude with open arms.
Instead her gaze wandered to the clock. She wondered where he was and with whom. It was none of her business, she told herself and rose to pace the area carpet. After all, it wasn’t as if they were married in the truest sense of the word. If his idea of going out with friends included seeing a woman who would meet his needs, then that should be fine with her. In sexual terms, she had no claim on him.
So why did the very thought of Justin with another woman make her heart pound with fury? If Amy looked in a mirror right now, she feared a green monster would be staring back at her.
The force of her emotion for him made it even worse. She should not care, she fumed. “This is why I didn’t want to get married,” she muttered. “Caring for a man too much just gets in the way,” she muttered to herself. “Feeling too much for a man muddles the mind and saps the energy.”
She glanced at the clock again. Eleven-thirty. She missed their questions. Her day felt incomplete without them. She missed those few moments when she allowed herself to give in to her curiosity about him. And she was frustrated with herself for caring so much.
Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she left the den and climbed the stairs. This was why she needed to rein in her feelings at all times. Tonight was a perfect reminder. Amy must depend on herself and no one else. Always.
Seven
The following afternoon, Amy found herself in a bind. The preschool children for the after-school program would be arriving any moment and her sitter had called with an emergency. She needed Amy to pick up Emily, Nicholas and Jeremy. Amy’s back-up sitter was out of town on vacation.
Alth
ough she would almost rather chew nails, she tried to get in touch with Justin, first at his house. To her surprise, she found him at her home instead.
“What’s up?” he asked.
Just hearing the strength in his voice calmed her. “I have a problem. My sitter’s had an emergency, and I’m here doing the after-school program, so I need someone to pick up the kids from the sitter.”
A long pause followed, and she held her breath. Regret seeped in. “Forget it,” she said. “You don’t—”
“For Pete’s sake, give me a minute,” he said. “The market’s still open and I’ve got two possible trades left. I’ll place limit orders. Where does the sitter live?”
Amy quickly gave him the address and directions all the while thinking how much she hated asking for his help at the same time she was heaving a sigh of relief. “I really appreciate this,” she said. “I owe you a—” She broke off before she said “a big one.” The big one had gotten her in big trouble last time.
“We’ll see,” he said. “See ya.”
No sexy tease on the big one from him either, she noticed with an odd sense of loss as she slowly hung up the phone. Perhaps he wasn’t so interested in the big one with her now. That was good, she insisted to herself over a huge sinking feeling in her stomach. That was wonderful.
She kept telling herself the same thing during the after-school program and while she ordered burgers at the drive-thru. Ordering burgers, however, reminded her of her wedding ceremony. Brushing aside her sadness, she lugged the paper sacks of fast food to the front door and prayed her day wouldn’t be topped off by the arrival of Ms. Hatcher. Opening the door, she reminded herself to limit her gratitude to Justin. She didn’t need any more of that kind of trouble.
It only took a second for Amy to hear the tinkling of piano keys. For a half-moment, she wondered if it was a recording, but the sound wasn’t at all professional sounding. She quickly marched through the foyer to the formal living room to find Emily, and her brothers standing on either side like bookends, playing a spinet piano.
Amy nearly dropped the burgers.
“Emily?” she asked. “Where did the piano come from?”
The boys looked up. “Justin!” they chorused.
Emily whipped around on the small bench with a huge smile on her face. “Justin got it for us!”
Justin poked his head around the corner with the phone attached to his ear. He looked at Amy and didn’t speak or wave. He just looked at her from head to toe and back again, making her nerve endings dance on end.
Amy took a deep breath and looked at the piano. Beautifully polished and golden brown with white ivory keys, the instrument fit perfectly in the room without taking up too much space. She couldn’t have made a better selection. How exactly was she supposed to limit her gratitude on this?
Nicholas sniffed loudly and rubbed his belly. “I smell burgers.”
“You can’t have any cuz you puked in Justin’s car,” Jeremy said.
Amy winced. Oops. Men could be particular about their cars. She was surprised Justin was still in the house. She searched Nicholas for outward signs of illness. “Are you sick, sweetie?”
He shook his head.
“He got into the sitter’s cookie jar and ate too many cookies,” Emily said.
Nick stuck out his bottom lip. “Justin won’t let me have anything to eat cuz he said he doesn’t want me to get sick again.”
Surprised at Justin’s wisdom, Amy felt the force of all three gazes on her as if they were waiting for her verdict. “Justin is right. We need to let your tummy settle down before anything else goes in it.”
Nick eyed the sack of fast food. “But what about my burger?”
“We’ll see. I’ll call the three of you in a few minutes,” she said and headed for the kitchen. She rounded the corner and plowed into Justin. Still talking on the phone, he wrapped his arm around her to stabilize her.
Amy caught a mouthwatering whiff of his aftershave, and remnants of the emotions she’d felt when he’d kissed her rushed through her. Tough to hold a grudge after the way he’d come through for her today.
“Okay. I’ll check my system tomorrow morning for the correction,” he said, then turned off the phone. “My online trading system listed a wrong trade on my account and I just caught it.”
His green gaze searched hers, and Amy struggled with a deep vulnerability that swept through places she kept hidden inside her. “What made you get the piano?”
His lips twitched ever so slightly. “Who said I got it?”
She smiled and shook her head. “Well, it’s not Christmas, so I know Santa didn’t bring it down the chimney. I thought you told me you were a tightwad.”
“I am,” he said. “This is different.”
“How is it different?”
He shrugged with discomfort and took the food sacks from her arms to the kitchen counter. “Emily wanted to take piano lessons, so she needed a piano.”
“Needed?”
“In the scheme of things, this wasn’t a big deal, so don’t make it one,” he said, narrowing his eyes restlessly.
“It was a big deal for her and for me,” she added, taking a breath and lowering her guard a millimeter. “Thank you.”
Nicholas and Jeremy burst into the room, popping the bubble of intimacy forming between her and Justin. “We want burgers! We want burgers!” they chanted.
“The natives are restless,” he said. “Better feed ’em.”
Throughout the evening, Amy would almost swear there was an air of anticipation between her and Justin. It grew thicker with each passing minute. At unexpected moments, his gaze would catch and hold hers. Her heart was also doing unexpected things like softening toward him. Amy’s emotions swung from attraction and fascination to fear. By the time she put the children to bed, she felt like she was stuck on a carnival ride.
She went downstairs to the den, waiting and wondering which question he would ask her tonight. Which of her many questions about him would she get answered tonight? After waiting several moments, she leaned back on the sofa. Forty-five minutes later she awakened, but Justin was nowhere in sight.
Both disappointed and peeved, she returned upstairs and saw the light under his door. Burning with questions and curiosity, she lifted her hand to knock. She stopped just before her hand connected with the wood. It was better to keep a little distance, she told herself. She needed to rein in her fascination. He might be her husband, but it was in name only.
Justin avoided Amy the following morning. Her eyes might be saying yes, but he knew what her mouth would say. No. And if he weren’t careful, the idea of changing her no to a yes could become an obsession. Could? he thought with a mocking chuckle. Who did he think he was fooling?
Hearing the blessed sound of footsteps departing the house and the door closing, he headed to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Spying a bag lunch on the counter, he wrestled with his conscience, then grabbed it and darted out the front door.
Amy was buckling Jeremy into his car seat.
“You forgot something,” he said, running to her side.
She glanced at him and the bag, then shook her head. “No, I didn’t.”
Confused, he looked at the bag. “Isn’t this a lunch?”
“Yes,” she said, sliding into the driver’s seat of her Volkswagen.
“Who’s it for?”
She met his gaze and her lips tilted in a smile so sexy it affected him the same way it would if she were dragging her mouth across his bare abdomen. “It’s for you,” she said and pulled her door closed. “Gotta go. Have a nice day.”
Justin managed, barely, not to gape as she pulled out of the driveway and the kids waved at him. He glanced down at the bag lunch in amazement. Amy couldn’t know that no one had ever prepared a bag lunch for him before.
He opened it and looked inside to examine the contents. Turkey and cheese sandwich on wheat, granola bar and banana. And a note. No cookies until I know your favorite. Peanut
butter or chocolate chip?
That red-haired witch, Justin thought and felt an itchy, impatient sensation crawl over his nerve endings. He’d gone to bed hard and wanting every night since he’d said his marriage vows to Amy. Ever since “I do” had meant “I don’t,” he’d been burning in his bed. He hadn’t known Joan of Arc could be such a tease.
Both. Thanks, J.
For the third time, Amy looked at Justin’s bold scrawl answering her cookie question and couldn’t help smiling. So, she had more than one cookie monster living in her house. She slid the note back into her pocket and stored the information in her brain.
The kitchen timer dinged and she pulled the second batch of cookies from the oven. The aroma of fresh-baked sweets filled the air.
“Is it your mission in life to torture me to death?” Justin asked from the doorway.
Amy turned around to look at him and stopped short. His hair attractively damp and mussed from his recent shower, he wore no shirt and a pair of cotton lounging trousers that tied at the top and rode low on his hips. The sight of his bare torso and abdomen short-circuited her breathing.
“Well, is it?” he asked, moving toward her.
Amy swallowed and shook her head. “No. How am I torturing you?”
“Too many ways to count,” he muttered under his breath and nodded toward the cookies. “The smell is distracting.”
“They’re a thank-you gift.”
“For who?”
“For you.”
He blinked, then shrugged his impressive shoulders and reached for one of the cookies. “I’m not going to argue, but why?”
“Because you picked up the kids for me and I heard your car sustained damage.”
“You’re welcome,” he said and took a bite of the still-hot cookie.
