PART-TIME WIFE

by Susan Mallery

  "Bastard," Craig growled, wishing he could find the man and beat him into a whining, bleeding pulp.

  "Then Aaron used me in the biggest way possible. We had mutual friends, and he knew that my goal in life was to be a part of a family. When we started dating, he used that against me. He talked about the girls and how much they needed a mother in their lives. I was too ignorant to realize they already had one. I bought his story, married him, moved in and proceeded to support the entire family."

  She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. "After a couple of years I wanted a baby of my own. Aaron was against the idea. He already had two children, he didn't want any more."

  "I'm sorry," he said softly. Bitterness filled his mouth. All three of his boys had been accidents. Krystal hadn't wanted children, either. Aaron was a complete jerk if he didn't know what a treasure he'd had in Jill.

  "I kept after him about a baby, and he finally agreed. We tried for six months, but nothing happened." She looked at him. Her mouth trembled, but she spoke clearly. "I wanted to go to a doctor, but he said we should keep trying. Then his ex-wife sued for custody of the girls."

  "You don't have to tell me this," he said.

  "Yes, I do. I want you to know why I feel the way I do." She shifted on the seat, turning toward him. "Once the court proceedings started, we both agreed it would be silly for me to get pregnant now. I went back on the Pill. When we lost the custody battle, Aaron was furious. I tried to comfort him."

  Her hands twisted together frantically. He leaned forward and covered her fingers with his. She clutched his hand as if it were a lifeline. Her dark gaze locked on his. His heart ached for her. No one should have to suffer this much for anyone, least of all a creep like Aaron.

  "We were still in the courtroom," she continued. "His ex-wife was laughing and hugging the girls. I tried to hold him, but he pushed me away. I remember crying. I was devastated. I told Aaron we could still have a baby of our o-own." Her voice cracked.

  "She looked at me, then – Aaron's ex-wife. She stared at me with pity and called me a fool. There in front of the judge and everyone, she told me that Aaron had had a vasectomy years ago. Right after Heather was born. So unless he'd had it reversed, there wasn't going to be another baby."

  Craig swore loudly. The urge to violence nearly overwhelmed him. That piece of— He swore again. Jill didn't seem to hear him. She kept on talking.

  "Aaron just looked away. He didn't say a word. When I asked him if it was true, he just shrugged, like it didn't matter. The girls ignored me, too. As if I'd never existed for them. All those years had meant nothing. That week Aaron told me he would have his attorney draw up the divorce papers."

  She started to shake. Craig didn't know whether to pull her close or leave her alone. She settled the matter by releasing her hands and folding her arms over her chest.

  "I never saw him again. I never spoke to him. I don't know if I would have wanted to save the marriage or not, but I didn't get the chance to decide. I gave him and his daughters everything I had, and they never gave anything back. I suppose I'm a fool for taking it all those years. But I just wanted to belong. For once in my life, I wanted to be a part of a family."

  Her story stunned him. It was too much to absorb. He knew there were bastards in the world; his father was one of the biggest. How had Jill hooked up with so many? She deserved more.

  "Jill, I'm not Aaron."

  "I know, but even if you were, it doesn't matter. I'm not going to be used again. I'm not going to be taken advantage of just because I'm convenient. I'm here to look after your children, and that's all I want to do. I can't afford to get involved with you. It's too much like what just happened to me. It would be too easy to fall for you. I don't want to get hurt again."

  He wanted to protest. It wouldn't have to be like that. He and Jill had a powerful attraction between them. Maybe—

  Maybe what? He, of all people, should understand her concerns. He was a little gun-shy himself. He was only interested in a sure thing and life didn't come with guarantees. Was be willing to promise her exactly what she needed? He already knew the answer to that. They were both too wounded for a relationship between them to work.

  "You're right," he said. "I'm sorry."

  "Don't apologize. This was all pretty wonderful. I'm not ungrateful or angry. I just finally figured this out, and I wanted to be honest with you." Her smile trembled a little at the corners, but he wasn't going to comment on the fact.

  "I appreciate that," he said.

  He wanted more, though. He wanted it all. Damn the consequences, there was something about Jill that appealed to him. But he couldn't force it. Besides, he was forgetting who was important here. It wasn't him, it was the boys. They'd been through so much. They deserved better. Right now, Jill was the best part of their lives. They didn't need him messing that up for them.

  "I still want to apologize," he told her. "Frankly, I want to find Aaron and your stepfather and beat them both up."

  "Thank you for that. I wouldn't mind watching."

  They stared at each other. He wondered if she felt as awkward as he did. Even if he couldn't have a relationship with her, he wanted her to stay for the boys. How did he tell her that?

  "Friends?" he said at last, holding out his hand.

  She hesitated for a moment, then took it in hers. "Friends," she agreed.

  Friends, he thought. Why did the word sound so empty?

  * * *

  Chapter 10

  « ^ »

  On the way to Disneyland, the miles had seemed to fly by, but on the way home, they crawled. Jill caught herself staring at the speedometer for the third time that hour. The needle was still set at sixty-five. She supposed they must really be going that fast, but it didn't feel like it. She just wanted to get back to the house so she could escape to her room.

  The radio played softly but the sad country music didn't do anything to improve her mood. There wasn't even arguing from the boys to distract her. They'd gotten an early start so they could make the drive back in one day. The boys were dozing in the back seat. Danny had barely stirred enough to eat breakfast.

  Jill stared out the side window and fought down a sigh. She wanted to offer to drive, but she and Craig had traded off less than a half hour ago. She closed her eyes and willed herself to be anywhere but here.

  It was her own fault. She knew better, but she'd done it anyway. She'd withdrawn from Craig and the boys, and now they all knew something was wrong.

  She'd caught Craig studying her when he thought she didn't see. The boys had all stared at her with their soulful eyes full of pain and questions. She'd thought about explaining, but what was there to say?

  She should never have let Craig take her to dinner. She should never have agreed to that dance or responded to his kiss. She should never have told him the truth.

  Every time she thought about what she'd said, embarrassment flooded her body. Her face got hot, her palms dampened, and she felt like the world's biggest fool. How could she have let Aaron treat her like that? How could she have willingly admitted it to Craig? Thinking about the past didn't make her angry, it made her feel worthless.

  It had been the night, she told herself. When he'd kissed her, she'd wanted him so much. She'd wanted it to be real. All of it. Not just his affection, but the boys' feelings, too. She liked taking care of them. She liked being the one they confessed their secrets to, the one they ran to when they were hurt. She even liked that they felt secure enough to get mad at her. After years of being lonely, her heart responded to the love between the boys and their father. She wanted a piece of that for herself. Was that so wrong?

  She knew the answer. Of course it wasn't wrong. It also wasn't real. She was just the hired help. Craig was doing exactly what Aaron did, only Craig was being honest. He paid her for her services, gave her a title and time off if she wanted it. She'd known the risks when she'd taken the job. She shifted on her seat. That wasn't completely true. There was one risk
she hadn't considered.

  Craig.

  What was she going to do about him? When he held her in his arms, she wanted to surrender all to him. She wanted to be with him, touch him, feel him against her, in her. He made her feel safe and cared for. He was the kind of man a woman dreamed about marrying. He was a fantasy come to life. Good-looking, honest, intelligent, funny, loving and sexy enough to melt pure steel, let alone her lonely woman's heart.

  That made it worse – being so close to what she could never have. She still believed in love, just not for herself. Somehow, she always came out on the losing end of her romantic relationships.

  For some people, things just sort of worked out. Kim had found Brian. They were deeply in love. It hadn't worked out for Craig, she reminded herself. Krystal had nearly destroyed him. They were two wounded souls. What did that mean? Should they try to find comfort together, or should they run like hell before they got hurt again?

  Her first instinct was to run. She wanted to open the car door, jump out and run as fast and as far away as possible. She glanced over her shoulder at the boys. They were all dozing. She couldn't abandon them unexpectedly. They'd already been through so much. She would have to find her way to make peace with her feelings about Craig. How hard could that be? After her confession a few days ago, she'd made it clear she wasn't interested in a personal relationship. Craig was too much of a gentleman not to honor her request.

  The realization should have made her happy. It should have made her able to relax. It didn't. Instead, she found herself counting the mile markers and wishing she had the courage to try again.

  * * *

  They returned home to a musty house and a flashing answering machine. Jill instructed the boys to carry their bags upstairs. Ben and C.J. hauled their stuff up immediately. Danny sat at the bottom of the stairs and stared listlessly at her.

  "I don't feel good," he said.

  Jill frowned. He'd been quiet the whole way home. Too quiet. She touched his face. It was warm. "You might have a fever. Where's the thermometer?"

  He shrugged. His light brown hair stuck to his forehead in sweaty patches.

  Craig brought in another load of luggage. He paused. "What's the problem?"

  "I think Danny's sick," she said.

  He came over and looked at his son. "He's got a fever. How long have you felt bad?" he asked.

  Danny shrugged again. "Last night, maybe."

  Craig took the stairs two at a time. He returned with a thermometer, which he rinsed at the sink before sticking it into Danny's mouth. The boy obligingly clamped his tongue over it and leaned against the railing.

  C.J. came downstairs and looked at him. "What's wrong with him?"

  "I'm not sure," Jill said, bending over and touching Danny's face again. "Maybe it's just from the trip."

  C.J. walked into the family room and stopped in front of the answering machine. "There's a message, Dad."

  "Go ahead and play it."

  Jill expected it to be someone from the station, but instead a woman identified herself as a teacher from Danny's school. "Mr. Haynes, one of Danny's classmates has come down with chicken pox. The incubation on that is about fourteen to twenty-one days, so he will probably get sick sometime during the spring break. I'm sorry to be the bearer of such bad news." There was a pause and the sound of ruffling papers. The voice continued.

  "I see here you have two other boys. If they haven't been exposed, you're going to have to expect the worst. Call me if you need any more information." She left her number, then hung up.

  Jill stared at Craig. "Tell me C.J. and Ben have already been exposed."

  "They haven't."

  She looked down at Danny. Chicken Pox times three. The teacher had been right about expecting the worst. She removed the thermometer and studied it. "Just a hair over a hundred. You have a fever, my man. Can you make it up the stairs to your bed?"

  Before he could answer, Craig picked him up and carried him. Jill glanced at C.J. "Enjoy your last few days of health."

  "I won't get 'em," he said confidently.

  "Uh-huh. No one asks you your opinion. This stuff is very contagious. Look at it this way. You'll miss school, lay around and watch TV all day, and I'll try to tempt you to eat with pudding and ice cream."

  C.J. grinned. "All right!"

  "We'll see how you like it when it happens," she said, and moved into the kitchen. She put a call into the children's pediatrician to find out if there was anything she needed to be aware of, then sat at the table and wrote out a shopping list. She was preparing for a siege. About the time Danny was feeling better, C.J. and Ben would start getting sick. She figured it was going to be about three weeks of hell.

  Craig came into the kitchen. "I put Danny in bed. He says he just wants to sleep."

  She looked up from her list. "It's probably the best thing for him. I've put a call in to the doctor. There's some children's medication on the top shelf. That should help his fever."

  "I'll take it up to him." He ran his hand through his hair. "They've been inoculated against just about everything else. I'm sorry this had to happen while you were here. I can see if the station will let me extend my vacation."

  She shook her head. "Don't be silly. You had enough trouble getting the days off to take the boys to Disneyland. If you hadn't arranged it months ago, you couldn't have done it at all. We'll be fine. Danny will be up and feeling better before C.J. or Ben gets it. By then, I'll be an expert."

  "And exhausted."

  "Maybe, but I can always sleep later." She gave him a half smile. "Can you take care of things here while I run to the grocery store? I want to lay in supplies."

  "Sure." He followed her out to the garage. "The timing is really bad on this."

  "There's no good time for kids to be sick."

  "I know, but—"

  She paused and glanced at him. Despite the long drive, the lines of weariness by his eyes and the stubble darkening his jaw, he was still good-looking enough to make her heart pound as if she'd just endured an advanced step-aerobics class. Worse, she knew what he was thinking.

  "I'm not leaving," she said softly.

  He shoved his hands in his front jeans pockets. "You've thought about it."

  He had her there. "Yes, it crossed my mind. But I agreed to take this job, and I don't turn my back on my responsibilities."

  "I don't want you to stay if you don't want to be here."

  "I know." She stared at the concrete floor of the garage, then glanced back at him. "It's not that simple, Craig. You know that. Part of me is scared. I like the boys, being with them, with you. Being part of this family. It's all I've ever wanted. But it's temporary. I can't let myself get emotionally involved."

  "If it's that complicated, maybe you should leave. I don't want you getting hurt."

  His concern was bittersweet. There was a part of her that appreciated his willingness to sacrifice for her, while the rest of her was wounded that he would consider letting her go without a fight. Her conflict only proved how terribly confused she was by the situation.

  "I think I need to stay," she said. "Not just because I gave my word, but because I have something to prove to myself. I need to be able to do this and then walk away."

  "What if we don't want you to go?"

  We. What we? The boys? Him and the boys? Or just him?

  "I don't have an answer for that," she said. "I'm sorry about what happened when we were away. I shouldn't have sent out such mixed signals."

  "It's my fault," he said quickly.

  "Stop being such a nice guy. It wasn't your fault. Or maybe we're equally to blame. I knew going to dinner was a mistake, but I wanted to do it anyway because—" She ducked her head, fighting a heat flaring on her cheeks.

  "Because there's an obvious attraction between us." His voice was low and husky.

  "Something like that."

  "Exactly like that." He moved closer and touched his forefinger to her chin, forcing her to look at him. His
dark eyes blazed with fire again. The heat warmed her from the inside out. Her breasts swelled, and her thighs began to tremble.

  "What makes it scary for both of us is that it's more than just sexual attraction," he said. "We happen to like each other, too."

  The blush on her cheeks deepened. "How can you even talk about it?"

  "How can we not? Silence won't make it go away. If I can't trust you with this conversation, Jill, what's the point of having the feelings?"

  He terrified her. The urge to run was stronger than any passionate fire. She wanted to bolt for freedom and safety. Craig was everything she'd ever wanted in a man. He was honest enough to make her squirm.

  He brushed his thumb across her mouth. She wanted to taste his skin. She wanted to pull him close and kiss him. She needed to get away.

  "Let it go," he said. "Stop thinking about it. We're both carrying around a lot of misery from our pasts. We don't have to make any decisions today."

  That sounded simple enough, but how was she supposed to shut down her brain?

  "I have to get to the grocery store," she said. "And you should check on Danny."

  This time she gave in to the urge to run. She half jogged to the car, then backed out of the driveway quickly. Stop thinking about it, she thought, grimacing. Yeah, right. How was she supposed to do that?

  * * *

  Two weeks and six days later Jill had her answer. Exhaustion. A person could forget anything if she was exhausted enough. She sank into the kitchen chair and listened to the blissful silence. Danny and Ben were at school and C.J. was upstairs, playing video games and listening to his radio.

  She'd barely finished nursing Danny through the fever and itchy rash when Ben had come down with chicken pox. Two days later, C.J. had a fever and the first hint of red on his back. She'd played board games, rented videos, made enough Jell-O and pudding to float a small armada. She'd tempted their appetites with homemade bread, an assortment of soups, rice pudding and Popsicles. She'd forced liquids down their throats, held them when they cried, was patient when they whined and generally used up every single bit of strength she had.