Sealing the Deal

by Sandy James

  Beth wasn’t one to curse, so at least that was one part of her life that wouldn’t change now that Emma was in it. “Don’t worry about it. Not like you’ll be spending a lot of time with her.”

  * * *

  Robert gently laid Emma down before gaping at Bethany, completely lost as to what the woman was thinking.

  She’d always been so open, so easy to read.

  Now he didn’t have a clue what was flying through her head.

  Not spend time with her? With Emma?

  Even though he’d been around the baby for such a short time, he already felt attached to her, as though she were another niece. He’d figured Beth would be bringing her along whenever they were at one of the homes she was decorating, which meant he’d be seeing them both. A lot. “Why on earth not?”

  “I’m not sure I’ll have time to be your decorator anymore,” Beth replied.

  His stomach knotted at the words he’d hoped he’d never hear from her. He struggled for what to say. It boiled down to one thing.

  Robert needed Beth.

  He went with humor, hoping to ratchet down the anxiety clearly flowing through her. “You think I’m letting you off that easy?” He added another wink in an attempt to lighten the discussion—even though to him, it was pretty damned important.

  Didn’t she realize how much she meant to him? It wasn’t as if the realization snuck up and clubbed him over the head. He’d been warming to her for quite a while, beginning to see more and more in her that he found utterly appealing.

  She was the only true friend he had now, and he depended on her, both personally and professionally. Once teachers left the school, they seldom saw the people they left behind. Building houses meant people came into his life and then went right back out again.

  None ever stayed.

  He couldn’t help but smile when he remembered her first year at school. God, she’d been so young, so very green. Only twenty-one and right out of college, while he’d been thirty and an eight-year veteran. Like most newbies, Beth had thought she could change the world. Perhaps in some ways she had. She’d changed Douglas High for the better.

  Beth had created the Peer Board, a group of students who helped deal with problems in the school. If kids were having trouble with anything, from bullying to being habitually tardy, they often went to the Peer Board for advice and assistance. Not only did the group take a lot of pressure off the administrators by solving problems in the early stages, but the climate of the school had improved dramatically.

  Her room was right across the hall from what had been Robert’s engineering classroom. He’d been an industrial technology teacher before his side business of constructing custom homes took off with a population boom in the community. But for six years, she’d been his neighbor. They’d talked, laughed, and shared every school day. When he’d decided to walk away from teaching, leaving her friendship behind had been one of the hardest obstacles.

  His color blindness had been what brought Beth into Ashford Homes. The first house he’d built he decorated himself, using neutral colors and relying on his contacts at the paint store and flooring supplier to help him choose. The house had been constructed beautifully, but it didn’t sell. Feedback from potential buyers was unanimous. The inside was dreary and dull. The buyers couldn’t look past the colors and emptiness to see the fantastic amenities.

  Beth had gone to an open house. Robert had followed her through the rooms, hoping she’d like what she saw. Instead, she’d shifted from her bubbly, positive personality to dead silence. He’d had to nag her to get her to admit what she thought, and it wasn’t good.

  Yet in her typical style, she’d set about helping him. After she chose new colors for the interior walls, changed up some of the floor treatments, and meticulously staged the place, it had sold in a multiple-bid war.

  He’d hired her right after, and they’d worked together ever since.

  “I… I need you, B.” Robert inwardly kicked himself for sounding as though he was begging, even if he was. “I c-can give you m-more m-money.”

  Fuck.

  He hadn’t stuttered in years. After getting counseling when he was in middle school, he’d been able to get a hold of himself and stop his lifelong stutter. The only time it popped up was when he was really upset.

  Losing Beth’s friendship would leave him devastated.

  “I don’t want more money, Robert.” Beth was still flitting around the place, picking up.

  Robert strode over to her and stilled her movements by gently grabbing her wrist. “Stop. Please. I n-need to talk to you.”

  Her big brown eyes were full of resignation. She looked overwhelmed and defeated.

  Beth was facing a war, and she didn’t even know it. Raising a child wasn’t easy, a lesson he’d learned from watching his siblings struggle, both succeeding and failing, with their families. Worse, she was going to wage that war alone.

  At that moment, he vowed she would always have him to lean on.

  As Beth usually said—sang, actually—“That’s what friends are for.”

  “I need your help,” Robert announced. “Ashford Homes wouldn’t be what it is without you.”

  “But Emma…”

  Robert put his hands on her shoulders. “We’ll find a way to make it work, B. I p-promise.”

  Chapter Three

  Robert was so agitated he couldn’t stop pacing the length of the foyer and back, again and again.

  Beth was late.

  Beth was never late.

  Visions assaulted him. Her Beetle smashed by a semi, both Beth and Emma strapped to their seats, bloody and bruised. Beth pacing the floor of the emergency room while doctors tried to retrieve something Emma had swallowed. Never had he felt such an overpowering need to protect another person, let alone two people. But that need had settled deep inside him, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to calm down until he saw them both safe and sound.

  He’d never been remotely paternal before. A good uncle, yes. But what was it about Emma that roused such a desire to protect and shelter her?

  Perhaps it was merely her circumstances, being left alone by her patriotic mother who died serving her country. Perhaps it was because she was Beth’s flesh and blood. Or perhaps it was just the right time in his life to develop the need to nurture a child.

  Who the hell knew?

  A quick check of the time had him fishing his phone out of his pocket again. No texts. No missed calls. He’d wait five more minutes; then he was calling. Again. Or hopping in his car and—

  The door opened, and Beth walked in carrying Emma. She looked like she’d just weathered a hurricane. Her hair had been pulled tight away from her face, held by an elastic headband and then restrained in a ponytail that was a mass of messy curls. Her clothes, nothing but a long-sleeved T-shirt and yoga pants, were badly wrinkled. Although he was color-blind, even he could see she wore two different styles of Asics. The shirt had a large stain near her waist. For the first time since he’d met her, she wore no makeup.

  She gave him a wan smile. “Sorry I’m late. Emma somehow managed to pull the lid off her sippy cup and spilled orange juice all over herself and her car seat. I had to get her changed and clean her seat before we could leave.” She glanced to her wrist and frowned, probably because she wasn’t wearing a watch. “You didn’t wait too long, did you?”

  “Not long,” he lied.

  Emma started fussing and kicking her chubby little legs.

  Robert smoothed a hand over her curls, glad to see she was doing so well. Dressed in a pink shirt and tiny jeans, her looks were a stark contrast to Beth’s frazzled appearance. “How you doin’, squirt?”

  The baby stopped fidgeting and grinned, revealing some tiny white teeth.

  Beth’s defeated frown took him by surprise. He was used to her being upbeat and positive. At the moment, she looked as though the weight of the world rested solely on her shoulders.

  “You doin’ okay?” he asked.

 
Instead of replying, she fished her electronic tablet out of the diaper bag. “We should get to work. I’ve got to get to the grocery store and then to the Laundromat.” Using one hand, she tried to flip open the cover. After three tries, she let out one of the most dejected sighs he’d ever heard.

  “Why don’t you let me take Emma?” he asked.

  “Thank you.” Beth passed the baby off to him. It was an easy task since Emma held out her arms the moment he reached for her.

  Opening her tablet, Beth took a long look around. “This one’s ready to go, isn’t it? I didn’t realize you’d gotten this far.”

  “Everything is done. Just needs your miracle touch.”

  “Tell me about the client. A family?”

  Robert shook his head. “This one’s a single.”

  “A house this big?” Beth cocked her head. “Seems odd. This is the perfect place for a family. When you showed me the plans, I drooled.”

  “Drooled?”

  “Yeah. I wanted it that bad. But you’re out of my price range. So this is a single person… Guy or girl?”

  “Guy.”

  “Age?”

  “Middle-aged. Forty.”

  “Forty’s not middle-aged. Heck, Robert, you’re close to forty and you look fantastic.” Her cheeks flushed red and she fidgeted with her tablet.

  Easy for a woman who was only thirty to say, but damn if he didn’t enjoy the compliment. “Let’s just say it’s old enough.”

  “Tell me about him. Fashionable? Lots of dates?”

  Robert shook his head. “Neither. No family, but he wanted one. Hasn’t given up all hope, but he’s ready to commit to a house. Maybe if he builds it, they will come.”

  At least she let out a small chuckle at his movie quip. “Country-western? Hip modern? What’s his taste in décor?”

  “He has none,” he replied with a chuckle. “Told me to have you decorate this place the way you’d want it to look.”

  “That’s downright cruel.” Her fingers started to fly over the tablet.

  “Cruel?”

  “Yeah… I’ll make it perfect; then I’ll have to hand it over to someone else.”

  Robert bit his lip. Everything he’d told her about the new owner was true. He was forty and had no prospects for a family. His home decorating taste was nonexistent. But Robert had left out one important detail.

  This house was going to be his new home.

  He’d built this one on spec, a sign that business was booming. Building an unsold home was something he only got to do when there was a lull in activity at Ashford Homes—a rare occasion. Most of the time, Jules or Connor brought him a buyer. That buyer would choose from Robert’s catalog of blueprints, and construction would begin.

  This home might have started out as a spec, but once the frame started to rise, he knew he was going to keep it.

  It was a new model, a blueprint that one of his engineering friends had drawn up based on Robert’s idea of what would make the perfect house. Roomy but not overmuch, it was designed for function while still maintaining a welcoming open floor plan. There were four bedrooms in case the owner had company or if he one day found a woman to settle down with and raise a couple of kids.

  For some reason, he wasn’t ready to tell Beth about being the owner. What would she think? That he wasn’t able to land a wife? She knew he dated a lot, so she’d never assume that. But would she understand why he needed this house for himself? Would she think he’d given up on having a family?

  What’s wrong with me anyway?

  Self-doubt had plagued him the last year, probably a result of turning forty. He’d always heard men had a midlife crisis around that time. Some bought sports cars or motorcycles or found themselves a trophy wife.

  Robert didn’t want a trophy wife. He just wanted a woman he could love. One who shared some of the things he enjoyed and could learn to love him in return.

  Angry at himself for getting so maudlin, he tried to focus on the things Beth was muttering as she moved from room to room. It was an endearing habit of hers, almost as though she needed to talk herself into some of the things she wanted.

  When she hit the kitchen, the muttering stopped. She set her tablet on the bar and stared.

  “What’s up?” He came up next to her, shifting Emma to his other hip. She was content playing with the button holding his collar down.

  “I really wish I knew more about the buyer. Kitchens are so… personal. I mean, you’ve got great cabinets, and I love the granite countertop. It’s exactly the color mixture I’d pick for myself.”

  “I know. You’ve told me how much you love brown and silver mixing. At least the granite guy told me it was brown and silver. Isn’t it?”

  Her first smile. “It is.”

  “Thank God. It’s too expensive to have screwed it up.”

  “But the rest?” she asked. “The appliances? The backsplash? A person has to live with those a long time. The wrong choices might make him miserable.”

  “Pick what you like, B. I’m sure he’ll be happy with your work. My buyers always are.”

  She still didn’t look convinced.

  He glanced at her pad and saw that she’d pulled up some backsplash samples. Most were tile, but one caught his eye. “That looks like metal. Is that silver?”

  “Yeah, it’s getting popular to have molded metal. The patterns are interesting, and I like the sleek look it gives a kitchen. Makes it stand out since it’s not your typical stuff. But that means no stainless appliances.”

  “Why not?”

  “Too much shiny. Would be silver overload, especially with the silver running through this granite. Black appliances would give a great contrast. Have you asked him if he wants stainless? If he already has them ordered…”

  Robert shook his head. “Nope. He was going to order after you chose fixtures.”

  “And he really doesn’t care?”

  “He really doesn’t care.”

  Standing to full height, slight though it was, she picked up her tablet. “Then metal it is.”

  * * *

  Beth had been exhausted when she arrived, but now she was positively giddy. This house was her chance to do whatever she wanted, and instead of trying to please a client, she only needed to please herself.

  And Robert.

  At least this part of her life was under control. Being a mom had turned out to be a lot harder than she’d ever expected. Emma seemed to need her every single moment of the day—and the night. Her perfectly behaved niece had turned into an impossible-to-please child.

  Beth’s arms and back ached from holding her, but whenever she put the baby down, the crying started all over again. The little sleep she’d gotten had been done sitting up in the chair, letting Emma rest against her chest.

  Laundry was piling up, her pantry was empty, and she was just about to collapse from fatigue. Her neighbors were probably having fits over the noise. She’d be amazed if the apartment complex manager didn’t ask her to move out by the end of the week.

  There would be no help from her parents, but Beth hadn’t expected any. They’d hightailed it back to Florida right after they’d wrapped up Tiffany’s affairs. Carol had already booked them a cruise now that they were back to being a couple and not burdened—Carol’s exact words—with caring for Emma. At least the Ladies were there for her, although Beth was reluctant to lean on them too much. They had lives of their own, and she didn’t want to be an imposition.

  Besides, she might be a bit frazzled, but things weren’t all bad. There were moments she shared with Emma that stole her breath away. A smile. A laugh. That twinkle in Emma’s brown eyes. So many times Beth saw parts of Tiffany popping up in her daughter, which made her both happy and a little sad.

  As she entered the master bathroom, Beth stopped to stare at her reflection in the mirror.

  Sweet heavens. I look like crap!

  Robert hadn’t said a word about her shameful appearance, nor had he scolded her for being lat
e. She was simply overwhelmed by the sudden changes in her life. Losing Tiffany hadn’t truly sunken in because Beth had been so busy trying to learn how to take care of Emma. Clearly she wasn’t doing a good job. Emma might be clean and well fed, but she wasn’t as happy as Beth thought she should be.

  No wonder. She’d spent a short time with her mother, been uprooted when Carol had taken over her care, and now found herself plunked down in the middle of Beth’s life in a place she didn’t know.

  Feeling sorry for Emma, Beth had bent over backward to meet every single whim the baby had. Although she guessed wrong about what Emma wanted most of the time, she was giving it her all.

  And it was killing her.

  How could she possibly keep this up?

  She was supposed to go back to work Monday. The child care was going to cost more than half her teaching salary, and she refused to touch any of the money that was being put aside for Emma from her mother’s life insurance and military benefits. She’d have to pick Emma up by four every afternoon or would be charged an extra twenty bucks—even if she was a minute late. When would she have time to grade papers or make lesson plans? Those activities sometimes took hours in the evening. Emma needed someone to play with her and teach her to walk and to read and—

  Beth burst into tears, feeling like the biggest failure in the world.

  “Bethany?” Robert hurried into the master bathroom. “What happened?” He skidded to a stop, still holding Emma. “Did you hurt yourself?”

  She couldn’t stop crying. There wasn’t even a towel to grab so she could hide her face.

  “B?” His hand settled on her back. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “I… I can’t… do this…” Everything she touched was going straight to Hades, and the idea that she faced years and years of trying to balance all the responsibilities of taking care of her niece seemed about as likely as her being able to hike up Mount Everest.

  Robert wrapped his strong arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his other side. His scent, so masculine and fresh, overwhelmed her, reminding her that he was only her friend no matter how much she might want more. That scent would never be on a pillow resting next to hers. It would never be there whenever she came home and needed a hug after a rough day at work. It would never envelop her as he pulled her into his embrace for passion instead of friendly comfort.