Читать книгу The Bachelor's Stand-In Wife - Susan Crosby, Susan Crosby - Страница 9

Chapter Four

At six-thirty, through the open kitchen windows, Valerie heard a car make its way up the driveway, the tires-on-gravel sound distinctive. Earlier in the day she’d peeked through the garage window and spied two cars: a large mocha-colored pickup and a shiny black SUV. She’d wondered what he’d driven to work, and assumed it was a Falcon car because his other two were American-made brands she knew.

Sure enough, a sleek silver convertible sports car came into view, the sun reflecting off a soaring-falcon hood ornament. One of the garage doors opened and David drove straight in. When he emerged a few seconds later, her pulse thumped in anticipation. Would he approve of everything she’d done? Would he even notice? She’d worked hard all day, never stopping to rest except to sit by the pool for a half hour while Hannah swam, but even then reading the files he’d left on his desk for her.

Her mind reeled with the details of a business completely foreign to her. Her body ached from scrubbing and vacuuming. But she’d caught herself humming several times during the day. Work had never been so much fun.

Much of her happiness came from the general situation—she and Hannah had a safe, beautiful place to live. She worked for a decent man. And in a month she would have health insurance and a sense of security. All of that would spill over to Hannah, too, who had tuned in to Valerie’s stress, especially this past year, even though she’d tried to hide it from her daughter. Worry about ever-increasing debt had robbed Valerie of sleep many nights.

The kitchen door swung open, and David breezed into the room, his hair windblown from driving with the top down. The messy look made him seem younger—or maybe just carefree. At the agency yesterday, his jaw had been as hard as granite, his brows drawn together, forming deep lines that had aged him. By evening, he’d relaxed considerably.

“How was your day?” she asked, locking her hands together.

“Productive.” He set his briefcase on the nearest counter, next to the stack of mail she’d brought in earlier. “Yours?”

“The same.”

“You get your daughter registered in school?”

“All taken care of. She starts a week from Monday. The bus will pick her up right out front.”

He picked up the mail and thumbed through it. “Good.”

Valerie stood by silently, wondering what to do. Apparently, she’d been wrong—he’d only seemed looser. He was taut with tension.

“Would you like a drink?” she asked.

“Yeah. I’ll get it, though,” he said vaguely, perusing the contents of a large envelope. After a minute he looked up at her. “Don’t let me keep you.”

She smiled. “I’m here to serve.”

Everything about him seemed to relax then. He put aside the mail and focused on her. “Something smells great.”

“Ribs. They’re precooking now, then I’ll put them on the grill to finish them up. There’s also potato salad, corn on the cob and apple pie.”

“Where have you been all my life?”

Looking for you. The wayward thought caught Valerie by surprise. No way was she letting herself wish for something she couldn’t have. A smart woman learned from her mistakes.

“I’ve been out there in the world,” she said lightly, “getting enough experience to be a great employee for you.”

“I’d ask if you got a chance to look over the files I left for you, but I’m sure you did.”

“Yes.”

“And went grocery shopping. And made dinner from scratch. And cleaned the house, right?”

“I’m kind of an overachiever.”

“No kidding.” He smiled. “Where’s my dog?”

“Oh! I’m sorry. She’s at the cottage with Hannah.” She should’ve thought about that. She should’ve realized that he would want to see Belle when he got home from work. “I’ll go get her.”

He put his hand on her arm as she started to pass by him but quickly released her. “Belle can stay put for now, although I’m surprised she didn’t hear my car and come running.”

Her heart pitter-pattered at the brief contact. She didn’t need this. She didn’t need this at all. “Belle’s probably shut inside. I could use the intercom.…”

“Are you nervous about something, Valerie?”

“I gave you my word that you wouldn’t know Hannah was here, and the first thing she did was latch on to your dog.”

“I believe it was mutual latching. It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

Regardless of what he said, she would deal with it as soon as she could. “Do you still want to eat at seven?”

“I think I’ll take a swim and kick back for a while. Would an hour ruin dinner?”

“Not at all.”

He nodded and walked away, grabbing a bottle of beer from the refrigerator on his way out. She turned down the oven, then headed to the cottage. Hannah was watching a movie, with Belle curled up next to her on the sofa.

“Oops,” Hannah said as the dog climbed off the couch without being ordered. They both looked guilty.

“Mr. Falcon is home. Didn’t you hear his car pull in?”

“I heard it.”

“You need to make sure that Belle is let out so she can greet him. He hasn’t seen her much the past few years. He’s really missed her.”

She looked about to argue but said, “Okay.”

“Belle, David’s home.” Valerie held the door open and hoped the dog understood. Her tail wagged slowly as she passed by, as if apologizing. “You’re a good girl,” Valerie said. Belle gave a little bark then hurried off, heading straight for the house and her dog door.

“Am I in trouble?” Hannah asked.

“No. You didn’t know. Now you do, however.” Valerie sat beside her. “I know it’s hard on you, not having any friends yet. And I’ve been so busy all day and ignoring you most of the time.”

“It’s okay, Mom.”

Valerie brushed her daughter’s hair away from her face. It wasn’t okay. Kids needed friends, and it seemed like every time Hannah made a new friend, she and Valerie moved again and Hannah had to start over. Please let this work out, Valerie prayed silently.

She refused to look ahead at the negative possibilities—that David wouldn’t be happy with her work or his business shut down or something.

That he might meet someone, get married and not need her anymore.

If that happened, she vowed there and then not to move out of the area. She would find another job and stay put, let Hannah have a stable life. They’d both earned that. Valerie needed to find some friends herself. She missed having a girlfriend to hang out with.

“When’s dinner, Mom?”

“At seven-thirty. Can you make it that long?”

“Can I go swimming until then?”

“No. Mr. Falcon’s in the pool.”

“Aw, man. I’m tired of watching television.”

Valerie patted her cheek then stood. “Read a book.”

“I’m not that tired.” She grinned.

“He’ll be out of town for a while starting on Sunday. You’ll have plenty of time to swim.” She moved to the door. “I’ll bring our plates here when everything is done.”

“We’re not eating at the house?”

“Hannah, employees don’t eat meals with employers.”

“We did last night.”

“We hadn’t settled in yet, so he invited us. It’s different now.” Valerie closed the door behind her and headed to the house. She glanced at the pool, saw David swimming laps, methodically, rhythmically, his tempo never altering. She looked away as she rushed by, giving him the privacy he’d given her the day before.

In the kitchen Valerie put on a big pot of water for the corn, then went out to the deck to fire up the gas grill. She set the patio table for one, then realized she couldn’t hear him swimming. She looked at the pool in time to see him push himself up and out of the water.

Valerie went still. Water drops glistened off his chest. His swimmer’s body was long and lean and perfectly muscled. There was strength there, enough to pick a woman up and carry her, to hold her close.…

Belle trotted up to him, waited to be petted. He crouched down and scratched behind her ears, and she wagged her tail, rubbing happily against him. Valerie heard him talk to the dog, but couldn’t hear the words.

He stood, toweling his hair, then saw her. She should’ve returned to the kitchen, pretended she wasn’t watching, but she couldn’t make her legs work. He was one beautiful male specimen.…

He looked away first, then knotted his towel at his hips and headed toward the stairs leading to the kitchen. Her face burned. What would he think? That the sexual harassment claimed by the jerk she used to work for was true? That she’d lied? If they didn’t have trust, they had nothing. She was living on his property, would have full access to his home, his computer, the details of his business.

She picked up a grill brush and scrubbed hard at the already clean racks until she knew he’d made his way through the kitchen and she could comfortably return.

Would he say anything? Had she already ruined her future with him?

Her hand shook as she lifted the pot lid to check on the water.

And so the wait for answers began.

David stood under the shower spray, letting the ultramassage setting work magic on his tight shoulders, trying to pound out the image of Valerie watching him. If she weren’t his employee, he would be flattered. She was an attractive woman, both soothing and sexy, a rare combination.

But she worked for him, so now what? Just ignore it? Discuss it so they could deal with the situation before it escalated into something uncomfortable, or even impossible?

Man, he needed a date. If all it took was for Valerie to stare at him for a few seconds—

But maybe he was wrong. Maybe she hadn’t been looking at him. She’d been a good twenty-five feet away, after all. He could’ve read something into it that wasn’t there. Perhaps his ego had gone into overdrive. His body certainly had, which was why he’d wrapped the towel around himself and headed for his bedroom so fast, before she saw how affected he’d been.

He stepped out of the shower, the question still foremost on his mind. What should he do?

The phone rang as he zipped his jeans.

“David? It’s Denise Watson. Just checking in to see how Valerie is working out.”

Hearing the voice of the director of At Your Service made David’s decision for him. He didn’t want to interview any more candidates. He wanted his life settled. And maybe he was wrong, anyway.

“She’s fitting in very well,” he told Denise, grabbing a T-shirt from his dresser drawer. “She’s a very hard worker.”

“And her daughter?”

“So far, so good.” He hoped it continued after Hannah felt comfortable in her new surroundings. You never knew with kids.

“I’m so glad to hear that. You’ll let me know if anything comes up, right?”

David almost choked. Like something hadn’t already come up when Valerie had stared at him so intently, so directly? “I’ll do that.”

Belle followed him downstairs a minute later. He could smell the ribs on the barbecue—or the barbecue sauce, anyway. He walked into the kitchen. Valerie didn’t acknowledge his presence.

“Smells good,” he said.

“Everything’s ready.” Still she didn’t look at him but moved around the room, putting corn and potato salad on three plates then taking an empty platter to the barbecue, returning with a stack of ribs. She piled a mound on one dinner plate. “I set the table on the deck for you,” she said, adding ribs to the other two plates. “If you’d rather eat inside, I can move your place setting.”

He was a little intrigued now at how she wouldn’t look at him. He’d been right. It hadn’t been his ego. “Outside is fine, thanks.” He took the plate from her. “You don’t need to wait hand and foot, Valerie.”

“Okay.” She slid her hands down her apron.

He wondered where she’d gotten it. He also wondered when the last time was that he’d seen a woman wear an apron at home. It seemed so old-fashioned. Or maybe she thought it put a division between them, a reminder of their employer/employee status.

“I’ll be back in a half hour to clean up the kitchen, if that’s okay,” she said, picking up the two remaining dinner plates and walking away.

“That’s fine.” What else could he say?

She apparently hadn’t thought about the fact she had a plate in each hand, however, because she stopped at the door, looking bewildered.

“Hang on. I’ll get it,” he said. He grabbed the handle, then waited for her to look at him. Her cheeks took on a pink tinge. “The food looks great. The house is cleaner than it’s been in months. I’m not going to make your day longer by discussing the files tonight. I don’t need to go into the office tomorrow, so plan on a full morning with me tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

He opened the door. She slipped past him, the scent of hickory trailing her. He shut the door then grabbed his beer and took his plate outside, Belle following and settling under the table, just as Valerie reached the cottage. She didn’t turn around and look back at him.

David turned his attention to the panoramic view, something he never tired of. The sun hadn’t quite set but had dipped behind the hill, creating an aura that backlit the scene. Peace washed over him.

After a minute he picked up a rib, the meat so tender it almost fell off the bone. He was used to eating alone at home, although not a meal as good as this one, and he certainly never set the table, place mat, cloth napkin and all. It made him seem even more alone.

He picked up his plate and moved to the railing, leaning a hip against the wood as he dug into the potato salad. From the cottage came laughter, first Hannah’s then Valerie’s. Even Belle lifted her head, her ears pricking. Were they reacting to something on television or just making each other laugh? They did that a lot.

He hadn’t grown up in a household where laughter was a constant. His mother had left when he was eleven. Before that, his parents had fought all the time, one of the reasons why David refused to fight with anyone. Noah had left for college the same week David’s mother left, and Gideon was fourteen and entering high school, so Gideon hadn’t had a lot of time for a kid brother. Their father hadn’t been an easy man to please.

Hannah laughed again. Did she miss having a father, as he had missed his mother? Hannah seemed well-adjusted enough.

Belle got to her feet and wagged her tail as she looked up at him with soulful eyes.

David sighed. “Okay. You can go see Hannah.”

The dog hustled off. Hell, even Belle wouldn’t keep him company.…

That settled it. Time to take back his life. He would start by accepting invitations, even when he was too jet-lagged. His world had become too routine, too closed in. Too all work and no play.

Time to liven things up.