His grin widened. “If I’d known how good the landscape looked here, I might have arrived earlier.”
One brow danced, and mischief gleamed in his eye. Fine. They were playing that game? Let the games begin.
She tilted her head up, ignored the fire flaming across her face, and planted a hand on her side, thrusting her hip into a more suggestive stance. “My camera is inside if…”
Andi squealed with excitement. Jules took a deep breath. Hallelujah, she’d been interrupted. Mock flirtation wasn’t her strong point. Had she really been going to say some junior high quote about taking a picture? Andi flew like a bullet and slammed herself, water and all, against her father’s khaki pants.
Jules hotfooted to the chair, snatched the robe, and whipped it around her body as Rhett chuckled. Oh, he’d better be laughing about Andi’s enthusiasm. But when she knotted the cotton belt and glanced at him, his eyes were glued on her. The big toothy grin was still in place as well. She pushed her sunglasses up her nose, spun, and marched to the house.
In the kitchen, she filled a glass of ice water and fanned her nerves with slow breaths. After setting the cup in the sink, she turned and retraced her steps to the sun room. Rhett slid the slider open and stepped in, grin and all.
“Sorry about that.” He thumbed toward the patio. “You caught me unawares. You do look good though, Jules.”
Her mouth popped agape in protest. Then she shut it. How could she object to that statement? Still, it was unacceptable. No—ridiculous. No, try mortifying.
“You, uh, aren’t planning on wearing that little number where other men can see you, are ya, Jules?” He rubbed the back of his neck and pulled a pained face.
She set both fists on her hips and lifted her chin. “What if I were?”
“Well, I mean, we haven’t talked about this, but…you’re still my wife and…”
“I’m your roommate, remember?” she spouted.
His face grew serious. “True, but to everyone else, we’re married. And…” His eyes dropped down her figure. “I’m not anxious to have other men looking at my wife.”
She stifled the gasp that leaped to her lips. Was he jealous? Gracious, it sure did sound as if he might be. Jules straightened and shifted her position, wrapping her arms about herself. “I’d never make you look like a fool, Rhett. I bought this suit for the patio only.”
He nodded. “I see. Well, okay. I need to grab some plans I left here this morning. Then I’ll get out of your hair.”
He walked down the hall toward the den. “By the way…” His voice drifted back. “I prefer the two-piece.”
* * *
“So when does Daddy get home?” Andi licked her finger covered with brownie mix and held a large batter-filled spoon aloft.
“You know.” Jules grinned and dabbed chocolate batter on her nose.
“Hey. We’re not ’pose to have food fights. Daddy said.”
A giggle bubbled out of Jules’ throat as she wiped the counter. “You’ve asked him?”
Andi’s head bobbed, her slanted eyes dancing with mischief. “’Cause one time at Goldie’s, we threw flour at each other. There was white stuff everywhere. Then their doggie ran through it and made little footprints. It was funny.”
Jules mouth flew open. “Truly?”
Andi nodded in her over-exuberant way. “Uh-huh. We got to ’cause it was Goldie’s birthday.”
“Whoa.” Jules rushed to the teetering stool that Andi perched on and caught it. “Be careful on this chair.”
“Sor-ry.” The five-year-old sing-sang. “When’s Daddy coming home?”
Jules pitched the brownie box into the trash drawer and stopped by the sink to wash off the batter. “Honey, you already know.”
“Friday.” The child threw her hands up and batter spattered the white column at the end of the counter. “Oopsie. Sorry.”
“Hmmm. Listen, tyke, you better wipe that off before it stains. And chilllll.” She gave a smile and crossed her eyes as she tossed a soapy rag onto the counter. Andi giggled.
“Yes, ma’am.” She grabbed it and climbed to a kneeling position to reach the spot. “But I’m not honey, or tyke. I’m Peaches. That’s what Daddy calls me.”
“Uh-huh.” Jules tapped her teeth as she watched the child wipe away the fudgy splatter. She shouldn’t do this but—“What did your mother call you?”
Andi’s dark brows descended. In chocolate concentration, or mother’s nickname meditation? It was hard to decipher. Such a loser to pump information from a five-year-old.
“I don’t know.”
Jules took a deep breath and stepped forward. “Is the batter not coming off?”
Kneeling on the counter, Andi was just above Jules’ eye level. The child turned to gaze at her, sorrow in her deep eyes. Dread bloomed in Jules’ chest.
“I can’t remember.”
The lighthearted atmosphere dissolved from the room, and a rock of regret settled at the pit of Jules’ stomach. She covered the distance, eased the rag from the child’s hand, and drew her into an embrace. “It’s okay, Andi. You don’t have to remember.”
“But I do.” She pulled away and swiped tears.
Jules set her on the granite countertop and stepped back. “What do you mean?”
Andi’s eyes glued to the floor. Her body slouched forward.
“Andi. What are you saying?”
The girl shrugged.
Jules straightened and parked her hands on her hips. “That’s fine. You don’t have to tell me.”
She wandered to the oven to check on the brownies.
“Leandra.”
Jules shut the oven door and turned. “What?”
Andi took a big breath and cut her eyes to Jules. “She called me Leandra. That’s my long name.”
She tipped her head back in understanding. “Oh. It’s very beautiful.”
Andi scowled and crossed herself into a pout. “I don’t like it.”
Jules strolled to the counter opposite of where the child sat near the pillar. “Why not?”
Andi shrugged again. “I didn’t think it was my name, but Daddy said it was.”
“I see.” Did she? Things seemed more confused than ever.
“But you’re my new mommy now, and you don’t call me that.” Andi bounced down from the granite top.
“I could if you wanted me too.”
Her expression turned thunderous. “No. I hate it.”
Jules knelt in front of her and grasped the child’s hands. “Andi, why are you so angry?”
Tears gathered in Andi’s eyes and drained down her solemn face. “’Cause I don’t like it.”
“All right. Maybe we can think of another name.”
“No. I only want Andi or Peaches. That’s all.” She spun and ran from the room and down the hall. The door to her bedroom slammed shut.
The oven’s buzzer went off, startling Jules. She stood, hurried over, and switched it off. After slipping mitts on, she pulled the pan from the hot oven and placed it on the stovetop to cool. Her eyes flicked to the doorway. Why had Andi become so upset? She inhaled a cleansing breath and settled onto a stool.
This is what she got for taking advantage of a child for information. How low could she go? If she reached up, she might be able to tickle an ant’s belly. She gnawed the inside of her lip. It’d be best to let her calm down and then offer a warm brownie and an apology.
* * *
“Carsen? Have you heard a solitary word I’ve said?”
Rhett straightened on the stool. It was hard to hear anyway in this bar-like atmosphere. From where he sat, he could see six large screen televisions, all on different stations, volumes blaring. On top of that, thumping music made the table vibrate. Waitresses darted from customer to customer in skimpy outfits, and the whole crowd reverberated with loud conversations and guffaws of laughter. Ordinarily, he’d never come to this sort of restaurant, but he’d hated to be the odd man out. His long week in Chicago was nearly up. He ey
ed the boss-man’s brother who sat to his left and yelled. “Sure, Cal.”
Teeth bared, Cal laughed. “Yeah, right. The boys tell me you just got married.” He thumbed the four other men around the table swigging spirits, talking sports, and gesturing to the screens.
“Yep.”
Cal thumped him on the shoulder. “No wonder your jaw’s in your soup. You’re missing your woman.”
Rhett stretched the kinks from his neck and took a swig of his soft drink. The marriage jabs were waxing old. He shoved the plate of food scraps to the middle of the littered table.
“Let me see this woman that’s lassoed a stud like you. You got a picture?”
He cleared his throat and put his attention on the nearest screen. “Nah.”
“Yeah, I bet she’s a blonde. Man, I thought for sure a newlywed would have a picture. You disappoint me—Hey.”
Cal jumped up and grinned at a man who’d stopped at their table. They shook hands and commenced to catch up with each other. Rhett took the opportunity to slide his chair out and head for the front of the building. He paused at the podium near the exit where the black-clad servers milled about grabbing menus and wrapped utensils.
“Excuse me.” He handed one of them a ten-spot. “Let that table know I went back to the hotel. Tell them I have a…headache.”
He quickly slipped through the door to escape the noise. His lungs expanded and inhaled the cool night air. Just to get out of that joint was a relief. He rubbed both hands down his face, spun, and started walking.
Newlyweds. That word stuck in his throat like cotton on a burr. He hadn’t realized how stressful it’d be to pretend a marriage. Who could’ve predicted the enormity of the fractured nuances a fake wedding would cause? He grunted. And he was definitely getting none of the benefits of his new status.
He flicked his gaze to the street, steady with traffic. Amazing the amount of light in the city on a dark night. The bank on the corner showed the time on a marquee in yellow digits—ten thirty. Andi would be fast asleep, thanks to Jules. Gratefulness filled his gut. He knew she’d look after his daughter like her own. That was why he’d married her, right? Guilt thundered through his veins.
The redhead’s image filled his thoughts. Jules would most likely be asleep also. Or would she? Maybe she’d be reading in her bed with her hair down in a curling mess. He smiled and kicked a paper coffee cup to the edge of the sidewalk. Perhaps she’d be snuggled against her pillow, finishing some emails. In her pajamas. Hmmm. Or underwear. A horn sounded behind him and he grimaced. Thank you, Lord. Went one too many.
A piece of trash tumbled across his path in the gentle breeze, catching his attention. His eyes roamed the filthy concrete cluttered with cans, bottles and papers. Sirens sounded in the distance and horns chorused about him. The city throbbed like a gasoline-driven Loch Ness monster that never rested. The ground pulsed below Rhett while exhaust fumes filled his lungs. He stopped and gazed around. The emptiness was palatable. He closed his eyes and tucked his hands into his pockets. What was he doing here?
Work. He’d finish and fly home this weekend. To Andi, and…Jules. Therein lay the problem. He and Jules needed more than physical distance because his mind wanted to dwell on her. All of her. In that daggone two-piece. He growled and marched on. Had to be more to life than a sassy redhead. His daughter for one. His job. His career.
He blew out a stream of air as a tire squealed down the street. Wait. Had God been on that list? Hadn’t he put the Lord first where He belonged? Rhett’s feet pounded a heavy beat on the dirty sidewalk. A sinking feeling washed over him. Things had tilted a little off kilter.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
When Rhett returned, they took Andi to the Evansville’s Children’s Museum for a relaxing day together while Andi explored the exhibits. Watching her interact with each display cheered Jules. The water room proved to be the most entertaining. Its artificial stream had soaked the child by the time they’d finished directing and redirecting the running liquid with plastic stops.
They walked downtown along the Ohio River walkway. The warm air soon dried everyone’s clothes, and they paused to gaze at the view. Jules sighed. Rhett would be gone all next week…again. She watched him from behind her sunglasses in his jean shorts and University of Evansville t-shirt. His handsome face lit with a smile as he swung Andi up to stand on the railing so she could get a better look. Jules stepped to the barrier and stood beside them.
He glanced at her. “It’s a beautiful day.”
The light wind tousled her bangs. She was loath to speak, unwilling to break the camaraderie. “Uh-huh.”
The bluebird sky glowed with eye-watering brilliance while fluffy clouds dotted the heavens, speckled with fowls riding the air currents. The whole scene played like a dream sequence in her head. She, part of a threesome, a family, the glorious weather. Her eyes dropped and scanned the horizon of trees on the Kentucky side of the river. She wanted to believe it was real. The people milling about them didn’t know the difference. They appeared a real couple. A genuine twosome with a child. Her child.
Her throat constricted. Childish thoughts. She’d already done this cycle in reality. She had no right to want it again. Tears gathered behind her sunglasses and she blinked at them. Who was she fooling? She’d experienced her round of happy memories. Now, destiny grasped her by the throat in an arranged marriage to a man four years her junior. Remember what I’m here for. I’m merely a glorified nanny. Don’t let your silly daydreams carry you away.
Rhett dipped Andi toward the rocky riverbank, and she squealed in delight. He swooped her down to the sidewalk next to him. She giggled and begged for another mock fall, but he laughed and ruffled her hair.
“Do you have to go away again next week?” Andi slipped her hands into her father’s, leaned back, and climbed him like a mountain.
He steadied himself until she gained his waist then clutched her to him. “’Fraid so.”
Andi laid her head against his shoulder. “You go too much.”
“Yep.” He joined Jules, heading for the walkway that followed the river. “That’s why it’s good Jules is with you, right?
A shot of guilty pleasure gushed through her. She may be a glorified nanny, but she was needed.
“Yeah, but I want both of you.” Andi reached her hand to Jules who trailed them by half a step, and they linked fingers. Andi grinned.
“Bad news is, I’ll be gone for two weeks this time.”
Andi’s face fell, and she dropped Jules’ hand. She pulled back and fixed her father with a pitiful countenance. “Daddy.”
“But I do have a surprise.”
With that, her expression cleared. “You do?”
“Uh-huh.”
The child bounced up and down, and he swung her feet to the sidewalk. The wind caught her long pony tail and flipped it to the front of her shoulder. Rhett drew them to an empty bench while pedestrians passed. He settled on the seat and indicated that Jules should sit as well, and then pulled Andi to him. He placed his sunglasses on his head and her eyes grew wide. Andi danced and clapped her small hands below her chin.
“Tell me, Daddy.”
Jules held her breath. What now? Andi could barely contain herself. When Rhett delayed, Andi lunged at Jules and hugged her neck as she jumped up and down.
“It’s going to be a big surprise, Jules. Daddy took off his sunglasses.”
Laughter bubbled up Jules’ throat, and she embraced the wiggly child. Andi pulled away, stepped to her daddy, and placed her hands on his cheeks.
“Are you never going to tell me? Am I getting a baby brother?”
A gasp slipped from Jules’ mouth, and she earned a glance from her companion. Thankful for her sunglasses, she kept her eyes on Andi. Rhett turned back to his daughter.
“That’s a little bigger surprise than I’d planned. Maybe we can work on that one next time.”
Jules caught her breath and her mouth fell open as she gazed at him, only to be g
reeted by his wide smile.
“However,” he focused back on Andi, “for now, I think we should take a little vacation to the beach.”
Andi’s eyes and mouth popped open in a most comical way. “The beach? The real beach? Like the ocean beach?”
“Yep.”
“Yes.” Andi shouted over and over as she jigged around the bench.
Jules’ heart plunged. Oh, my. They were going to the beach. Just the two of them. Nausea lit her midsection. Okay, take a chill pill. It’d work out fine. She’d been on her own before, and it’d only be for a week or so.
What a ninny she was. Acting like she couldn’t endure a day without them. One minute she belabored her fake marriage and the effort it took to keep up appearances, and the next she mooned over being alone. When had she become so fickle? She let out a calming breath and gripped the recycled plastic below her.
“Oh, boy, oh, boy.” Andi danced around and shoved her way into Jules’ lap. “Oh, Jules, we’re going to the beach. They got seashells there. I know ’cause Goldie told me so.”
“Actually Goldie and her parents have a time share there, so we’ll get to see them also.” Rhett reclined against the bench and dropped his arm behind Jules’ back.
She stiffened and wet her lips. “I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful vacation.”
Andi’s brows puckered. “You’re coming too, Jules. Ain’t she, Daddy?”
“Isn’t.” Jules and Rhett spoke at the same time, and Jules fidgeted in her seat.
“Yes, she is.” Rhett leaned forward and stroked the flyaways around Andi’s face. “We’re all going.”
“Rhett, you know I—”
“Let’s talk on this later.” He brought up his left hand and slid her sunglasses down her nose just a fraction and fixed his blue eyes on hers. “Okay?”
His face seemed very close. And why did his cerulean gaze transfix her so? She swallowed. “Okay.”
He rose and reached for Andi’s hand. She, in turn, grabbed Jules’. The child jumped and swung at every other step between the adults.
Reviving Jules Page 19
