A moment later she heard JJ’s voice echo down the hall. As much as she enjoyed having a pack of rowdy men in the house, she looked forward to a little girl time.
She quickly deposited the empty pot on a cool burner and then shook the strainer to get the excess water out of the noodles. She’d never cooked so much pasta at once. The pile was more like a mountain and almost slipped down the drain. She tossed the lot into her large bowl and dribbled a bit of olive oil over the top to keep the noodles from sticking. After a quick toss, she covered the bowl with foil and then went to great her guests.
Joe was still in the entry way, a frown marring his handsome face as he held his cell phone to his ear. She experienced a jolt just like she did every time he was around. Dangerous and deadly were just two of the words that described Joe Catrell to a T.
Her awareness wasn’t the least bit sexual, even though he was plenty good looking. If you liked tall, dark, ripped and intimidating-as-hell. And he had that kind of commanding presence that drew you in like a moth to a flame. But it was that commanding presence that kept her at bay, skirting by him carefully. He was just so...much. So intense. So powerful. So watchful.
All reasons that Trevor had hired him, obviously.
He nodded at her and offered a tight smile.
She returned it and continued into the small living room that had never seen so many people. Ronny and Thomas were on one couch, JJ was hugging Greg, who stood in front of the other. Trevor remained a few feet behind, his broad shoulders blocking much of the view.
Gretchen laid a gentle hand on his arm. “I’m so glad you guys made it,” she said quietly.
He turned quickly and smiled. “Me too.”
“Now she’ll stop calling me,” she teased and Trevor’s smile grew to a grin.
“Don’t blame me. I tried to keep her occupied.”
Gretchen couldn’t stop the mental picture of the two of them together, embracing. They’d done it often enough in her presence and according to JJ, they didn’t hold back when they were alone together. For the first time, Gretchen was jealous of that closeness, that intimacy, that passion. Until Greg had kissed her she hadn’t known what she was missing.
“I’ll just bet you did,” she quipped. “Has she heard from her father yet? I’m starting to get worried.”
While she didn’t have any experience to compare it to, she’d always thought Mr. Fairchild to be the type of father who was involved in his children’s lives. Not overbearing or in the way, but he touched base often enough. They got together for regular dinners and had fun family traditions. Traditions had been lacking in Gretchen’s life but now wasn’t the time to harp on that or figure out how to start her own.
“No. That’s not like him,” Trevor said.
Gretchen nodded.
“Hey!” JJ exclaimed as she turned away from her brother. She swept Gretchen into a fierce hug and rocked back and forth.
“Thank you so much for taking such good care of him.”
“Aww, you’re welcome. He’s no trouble.”
“Really?” JJ pulled back and glanced over her shoulder at Greg.
Gretchen really wished he would sit down and rest. A certain amount of strain would make him stronger, but likewise, too much stress on his injuries would just compound them. But it wasn’t her place to say. Not with his family surrounding him. No. Not even if his family wasn’t around. He wasn’t her boyfriend. She wasn’t his mother, or even his sister. She was barely a friend. But heavens, she wanted him to be so much more.
He looked at her now and the expression on his face said he knew exactly what she was thinking. She just hoped that everyone else wasn’t as perceptive as Thomas.
She fought the tears that rushed forward. This could all be over soon. Greg would leave and her once cozy house would be empty.
She didn’t want that.
In two days everything had changed. She’d had a taste for what life with Greg would be like and it had only whet her appetite for more.
Blinking, she forced a grin into place.
“Nope. No trouble. And he doesn’t even complain about my lack of cooking skills.”
Greg grunted as he eased down onto the couch.
“Who are you and what have you done with my brother,” JJ teased him.
“Gretchen’s lying. She’s an excellent cook,” he said and winced as he shifted.
Trevor slid a hand around JJ’s waist, pulling her against his side. The movement seemed as natural as breathing and it was obvious that at this point it was all muscle memory. JJ melted against his side, the connection between them strong and unbroken even as she kept her attention on her brother.
Thomas stood as his phone beeped. “That’d be the bread,” he said. As he exited the room he gave Gretchen an imploring look. She ignored it.
“Make yourselves at home,” she told JJ and Trevor, waving a hand toward the other sofa.
Gretchen’s home phone rang and she rushed over to answer it, hoping it was Mr. Fairchild checking in. But as she glanced at the Caller ID a sinking feeling stole her pleasure. Silently, she replaced the phone in the cradle and let it ring.
“Telemarketer?” JJ asked.
“My mom.”
JJ pursed her lips, knowing the full story of Gretchen’s past and her turbulent relationship with her mother. When Gretchen had met JJ’s mom, she’d found a role model, and example of the kind of mother Gretchen hoped to be.
That of course demanded a husband first and then a child of her own.
Sending Gretchen a smile of understanding, JJ took a seat between Trevor and Ronny. Trevor rubbed a reassuring hand up and down JJ’s arm. Deeply in love, they snuggled against each other. A pain seared Gretchen’s chest and she halted the instinct to rub away the ache. She’d wanted that, all of it: the cuddling, the easy way they interacted, all of the affection they shared, not to mention their lives.
She’d wanted that since she was a little girl. The desire wasn’t original or modern or even particularly feminist, but she’d wanted the white picket fence and happily ever after.
Jealously was such a debilitating emotion. It robbed her of breath and happiness and shocked her with its intensity. A small part of her with a big mouth wanted to tell them to get a room, that way she wouldn’t have to see what she was missing.
But she clawed that voice, that feeling, that evil little bratty person back and shut her in a mental closet. JJ was one of her best friends in the world and she should be happy, no thrilled, that she’d found the love of her life. The truth was, Gretchen was happy for JJ just like she was happy that Cindy was going after Adam. But that happiness was curbed by a new found knowledge and desire that she feared would remain unfulfilled. Greg had apologized for the kiss. What he should have apologized for was opening her eyes and ruining her for all others.
And that was why she needed to escape.
“I―” She faltered and four heads swivelled her way, their conversation pausing. “I’m gonna go finish dinner.”
“Do you need any help?” JJ asked, rocking forward immediately.
“No, no. Stay and visit.” She waved her friend off and dashed out of the room before the emotions could collide. Somehow she knew that wouldn’t end well and it wouldn’t be pretty. If only they made a magical drug that would level out her hormones and emotions. Blaming everything on PMS was a copout. Was Thomas right? Should she just lay it on the line for Greg? Two months ago she’d found the courage to tell him…why not now?
Most of the demons nipping at her right now had nothing to do with excess estrogen. They were simply there waiting to feed on her insecurity and weakness.
She stirred the sauce and then found a basket for Thomas to put the bread in. He didn’t comment on her silence or her robotic movements. Smart man.
Instead, he kept quiet and moved effortlessly around her kitchen. The garlic bread smelled divine and she told him so. Her mouth was watering. Maybe that was the answer. Concentrate on the food. Fixing it. Ea
ting it. Keep her mouth shut and her eyes off the love bugs currently nesting on her couch.
As plans went, Gretchen figured that was as good as any. At least until later when she could figure out where she stood.
“I’ll find a bowl for this and then we’ll be ready,” she said, trying to sound as casual and unaffected as possible. Boy was that a lie. Seems she was wracking those up this week.
“I’ll go ahead and take the bread and the noodles to the dining room then.”
“Thanks Thomas.” The Fairchild’s had raised phenomenal men. That’s all there was to it.
She watched his retreating back and a fresh wave of tears threatened. Good grief, it was too much. Too much emotions. Pleasure at a full house, happiness to be spending time with Greg, thankfulness that he was okay, desire for what JJ and Trevor had yearning for the passion Greg had showed her. No, she couldn’t go there. Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the small laundry room and shut the door behind her.
“Get a grip, Gretchen,” she whispered to the silent dark room, hoping a verbal assault would shake her from her pity. You are happy for JJ and Trevor. They deserve love and happiness just like you do. And one day you will find the love of your life and he’ll make you as blissfully happy as Trevor does JJ. You just need to start counting your blessings.
So she did. She leaned a hip against the cool metal of the dryer and held up a finger. She was healthy. Her sister was healthy. She had a home of her own. She had a good job. She had a side business she loved and it was taking off.
Five fingers. Five blessings.
She held up a sixth finger and thanked her lucky stars to have such incredible friends.
Even if the dynamics of their group was changing, she’d always be able to depend on them. She held up another finger and counted that among her blessings. Having people in her life that she could depend on and trust. That was an incredible blessing.
Feeling a little more even tempered and a lot more blessed, she adjusted her posture. Shoulders back, chin up. She smiled, even though no one could see her.
Just go out there and forget all the longing and be a friend and be the hostess you’ve always wanted to be. Enjoy food and laughter and forget―
The doorbell chimed, startling her.
She took one last steadying breath and exited the laundry room. Thomas was hanging up a coat in the entryway and Joe was no longer standing vigil by the door. She started to ask Thomas who it was when she heard a new voice among the others. Mr. Fairchild was pulling Greg up and into a hug when she entered the room. The two didn’t say a word but the look on the elder Fairchild’s face said he was having trouble keeping it together.
“Dinner’s ready,” she whispered to JJ. “Why don’t you guys come tell me what you want to drink.”
Gretchen made eye contact with Ronny and then Joe, who nodded, as if understanding that she was trying to give Greg and his father space. She heard their footsteps on the hardwood floor behind her as she breezed into the dining room. The rectangular room wasn’t big or fancy, but it held the second hand table that she’d lovingly, and painstakingly to the tune of two weekends, restored. It could seat ten but was presently missing the extra leaf. Seven settings dotted the surface and she wonder who’d done the honors. Thomas? It must have been.
“Ronny, there’s an extra folding chair in the garage―”
“On it,” he said, ducking out of the room with his usual exuberance.
“I have wine, water, soda, beer, and milk,” she said. “What can I get everyone?”
The men all wanted beer and JJ requested wine.
“Make yourselves at home. I’ll be right back.”
She lined the bottles of beer up on the counter, lamenting the fact that she didn’t have nicer glasses to put it in. She’d always thought it looked neat when the foamy head filled up a traditional, tall beer glass. Maybe she should keep an eye out at the thrift store. She never knew what she’d find, which was just one more reason to love thrifting.
After popping the top off each beer she turned her attention to opening the bottle of wine Ronny and Thomas had picked up. Years of Thursday nights with the girls had made her a pro at popping a cork. She just hoped that the Cabernet Sauvignon would mellow her out and take the edge off of her out of control emotions. She’d have to limit herself to one glass though. Two and she would probably embarrass herself. Three and she just might try something stupid, like beg Greg for another kiss.
Nope. Definitely sticking with one.
Thomas stepped into the kitchen and silently gathered another place setting. He would make a great husband for some lucky woman.
She pulled two of her nice glasses out of the upper cabinet and filled them half way with wine. Good stemware was another splurge and she figured that since she and the girls had a weekly tradition of getting together and chatting over wine and occasionally dinner, that it was justified. Besides, she’d only bought four glasses, one for each of them. And she used them all the time, not just when she hosted the girls once a month. Her grandmother had only used her fine china on extra special occasions. Gretchen thought that was such a waste. If she could ever afford a pretty set of china like that, she’d use it whenever she could. Date night, anniversaries, birthdays, holidays.
“Need help with that?”
Greg’s voice startled her and she whirled to face him. Her elbow careened into the wine bottle and sent it on a collision course with the glassware. She shot out a hand and snatched back just before disaster struck.
“Good reflexes,” he said as she exhaled a sigh of relief.
“That was close.”
“I’m sorry I startled you,” he said stepping closer. He filled up the kitchen and stole the oxygen.
She’d been hoping to get through dinner without making a fool of herself but with him this close, staring at her like that... she almost lost her head. Or was it her willpower. Whenever he was near she felt extra feminine and not all together normal. Like a giggly girl had taken over her brain. That wasn’t good. Not when she was trying to keep her wits about her and her runaway emotions firmly in check.
For the second time today he had her pinned in the kitchen. He blocked her escape even though she was sure he didn’t mean to. There was nowhere to go but the laundry room. And this time when her silly heart sent images to her brain, hot, steamy, skin on skin images, she knew what she was missing.
A kiss would work, for now. With the way he was looking at her, studying her actually, she thought he might not mind if she closed the distance between them. She could just lift her lips and steal a kiss. Glide her hands up his chest, lean into him and lose herself again.
She shook her head and forced other visuals into her brain. A basket of golden puppies. A squirrel gathering nuts. A baseball game. “Help would be great.”
She turned to the beer glasses and handed him two. “Thanks.”
“Are you okay, Gretchen? They’re a lot to handle, I know.”
Her head jerked back a fraction. He thought she was worried about his family? Wow. She’d been entertaining thoughts of sticking her tongue in his mouth and he’d been concerned about her tolerance to the Fairchild clan.
They existed on different planets.
“Your family is wonderful. Go on. I’ll get you a soda and then bring the rest.”
He stared at her lips for a handful of seconds and her blood pressure spiked.
15
True to form, Ronny had Thomas in a headlock when Greg entered the dining room. It was good that some things never changed. Joe skirted behind the two and took a seat at the far end of the table.
“Who ordered a beer?” he asked, lifting the glasses for them to see. Thomas and Ronny broke apart immediately and relieved him of the frothy goodness.
His father was just settling in next to JJ and Trevor was on the other side of her.
“Take the end, son. That way you can stretch out that leg,” his father said with a nod toward the chair next to him.
<
br /> Greg appreciated the thought, and definitely wanted to stretch out his leg, but he didn’t want to sit through the meal feeling his father’s scrutiny and worry. The old man was beating himself up far too much for leaving his cell phone charger at home.
Dad was making a good show of being strong, but Greg could see that look in his eyes. He’d almost lost a son. They both knew it. Greg didn’t have to say a word, but his dad seemed to instinctively know that Greg was doing his best to hide his pain.
He didn’t think he could sit through a whole meal without one of them breaking down. And he did not want to cry in front of Gretchen or his brothers.
“I’ll take the other end so Gretchen can sit here.” He knocked his knuckles against the back of the chair and then slowly made his way around the table. Luckily, Ronny and Thomas settled down with their beer. If one of them had put him in a headlock right now, he would have gone after their nuts.
When he was, at last, seated, his knee stretched out, he let out the breath he’d been holding.
“Good to see you, Greg,” Trevor said, finally able to get in a word around JJ.
“You too. Have a good trip?”
“We did. Up until we got your call, of course. We’ve been worried since.”
“We have,” JJ added.
“I’m―” He paused as Gretchen entered the room, a large pot in her hands. She stared straight at him, her footsteps faltering. So it was the kiss that had her off kilter. Good, he wasn’t the only one shell shocked.
The conversation around the room died and his father hopped up. Greg envied the ability to “hop” anywhere.
“Let me help you with that my dear.”
“I’ve got it. If you could grab a trivet, I’d really appreciate it. Obviously my work out routine should include cooking for an army. Can you guys come again, say three days a week?” Laughter filled the air and his father did as she asked.
“You don’t want to extend that invitation, Gretchen. Those two will eat you out of house and home.” Greg nodded at his brothers.
“That’s fine with me, so long as they carry the groceries.”
Falling for His Fake Fiancée (Book 2, Girls' Night Trilogy) Page 13