by Lori Wilde
Her tone turned mischievous. “Just practicing for your parents.”
“There is nothing to practice. We’ll eat, chat, leave.”
“It’s the middle part that worries me.”
“Let me worry for both of us, okay?”
“Sure, you’re the big, strong he-man. Poor little me will just follow your lead.”
Nate resisted rolling his eyes. How could one pint-sized female be so irritating? Still, he kind of liked her feistiness.
The rain started before they got there, enormous sheets of it whipping across the highway, forcing traffic to a cautious crawl.
“Can we talk about the weather now?” she asked, sounding apprehensive.
“Let’s not.”
He frowned through the windshield. His mother was tornado phobic. A tornado had destroyed her family home in Oklahoma when she was a girl. Knowing his mom, she would probably want to serve dinner in the storm cellar.
When they arrived at his parents’ home, one door of the attached garage was open with space for his vehicle, so that they wouldn’t have to get soaked getting Lucy out of her car seat and into the house.
“There’s tornado warnings west of here and the storm is headed this way,” his mother announced once they were inside. “I’m so afraid we’re going to have one here.”
“I’ve got the weather report on my phone,” his calm burly father said. “We’ll get plenty of advance notice if a tornado heads our way.”
Becky and his dad hit it off at dinner and seemed to have a grand time challenging Nate and his mother at darts. A game that they played in the storm cellar after polishing off the pot roast.
The rain subsided, but only temporarily. There were tornado warnings out until two a.m. and the prospect of more severe weather rolling their way seemed like a certainty.
“You must stay over,” his mother said. “That’s all there is to it.”
“We can’t inconvenience you,” Becky protested. “That’s simply too much trouble. We’ll leave after the storm moves through.”
“It’s no trouble at all. The guestroom is always ready. I can loan you sleep clothes, and anything else you might need is in the bathroom—fresh soap, new toothbrushes, face cream.”
Nate had been down this road before. Even without Lucy, his mother was too paranoid about big storms to let them leave.
“It’s no problem, sweetheart,” he said to Becky, surprised at how easily the endearment came to him. “Lucy is already asleep in the nursery. I’ll take the couch in the living room and you can have the guest bedroom.”
“I guess it makes sense not to take the baby out in stormy weather,” Becky agreed but sounded dubious.
“I won’t have Nate trying to fit himself on my short couch,” his mother insisted. “He’s much too tall for that. You two can share the guestroom. I might be old, but I’m not a prude. I understand young people don’t wait until they’re married to sleep together anymore.”
“That’s okay, Mom. The couch is fine.”
“No, I feel guilty keeping you two apart. I know you have separate apartments for now, but when you’re young and in love…”
“Um…” Becky began, but Nate distracted her by putting his arm around her waist and pulling her closer to him.
“Don’t let me keep the rest of you awake,” Mom said. “Shoo, go on to bed. I’ll just keep the TV on the Weather Channel until this watch is lifted.”
“It was really nice to meet you, Becky,” his father said, giving Becky a bear hug at the bottom of the stairs before they went up to the guestroom.
There was no need to ask his father if he liked his new “girlfriend.” Dad had been beaming from ear to ear since they’d arrived. Nate was already dreading having to tell him when the “breakup” happened.
Nate ushered Becky ahead of him, smiling at the rigid set of her shoulders. He was going to catch hell when that bedroom door closed on them.
“I am not sleeping in the same bed with you!” she whispered angrily as soon as they were alone.
“I don’t remember asking you to sleep in the same bed with me.”
“Oh! You know what I mean. You’ll have to find somewhere else to sleep other than with me.”
“I really can’t yet—not until Mom gets the all clear on the tornado news. Believe me, she’ll stay up until the watch is over. Don’t worry, I’ll sleep on the floor. Your virtue is safe with me.”
“I’ve never heard of a woman insisting her son share the bedroom of his girlfriend in her house.” Becky shook her head in disbelief. “Your mom is very progressive.”
“It shocked to me, too, but apparently she really wants us to think she’s hip. You should take it as a sign she approves of our relationship.”
“Terrific.”
“In the future, we’ll pay closer attention to the weather forecast before we come here.”
“In the future? With a little luck, I’ll dump you long before that’s necessary.”
He let that go and headed to the bathroom, deciding to sleep in his stiff new jeans rather than make Becky uncomfortable by stripping down to his shorts. He took a quick shower, brushed his teeth with one of the new toothbrushes his mom kept in the guest bathroom, and put his clothes back on.
He understood why Becky was nervous, and he didn’t want to make things worse for her. He used the comforter and one of the pillows to make a pallet on the floor. When Becky crawled into the bed after her turn in the bathroom, he feigned sleep.
“At least you don’t snore,” she mumbled under her breath. “Unless you’re faking being asleep.”
Nate grinned to himself but never said a word.
Becky fell asleep before he did, and she had the most adorable soft little snore that he found irresistible.
As he fell asleep, Nate had a lazy thought. He could so easily get used to being with her.
11
Becky tried kicking away the cocoon of cloth making her too hot, but she still felt trapped.
By the time she was fully awake, she understood why. There was enough terrycloth in the borrowed robe she was wearing to stock a health club with towels.
What was she doing here? She remembered being hustled off to bed in the same room with Nate, but how had she gotten herself into a mess like this in the first place?
At least he didn’t snore, she thought again, glancing at his makeshift bed on the floor, but it wasn’t his quiet sleeping habits that made the room so still. Just enough light from the streetlamp filtered through the closed blinds for her to see that he was gone.
Fine, that was just what she wanted, Nate sleeping somewhere else. She could go back to sleep.
Or could she?
Her eyes popped wide open. She couldn’t get comfortable in the heavy robe that served as a nightgown but tossing it aside and lying under the sheet in her panties did nothing to lull her back to sleep.
Checking to be sure the door was closed all the way, she slipped out of bed and padded barefoot to the spot where Nate had bedded down. He was wearing a wonderful aftershave, and she picked up his pillow, curious whether his scent still lingered on it.
She buried her face in the cotton percale and inhaled deeply, hugging the pillow against her bare breast, remembering their kisses, and she hugged it tighter. Too bad they were so wrong for each other. She could imagine worse fates than waking up every morning in the arms of a man who smelled this good.
Reality took that moment to intrude.
Ahem, if Nate came back in and found her cuddling his pillow, she’d die of embarrassment. She tried to put the pillow back exactly as he’d left it, even punching it with her fist to make a head indention.
Suddenly restless, she wondered if Nate’s girlfriends ever raided the kitchen late at night. A glass of milk might induce her to go back to sleep, especially since the luminous face on the bedside clock showed it was only two thirty-seven a.m.
Wrapping the robe tightly around her, Becky crept downstairs, able to see in the darkness thanks to a hall
way nightlight. The living room was dark, but light was coming from the kitchen and the family room. She tiptoed toward it, not really wanting a woman-to-woman encounter if Margaret was still awake. She peered around the corner, hoping they had accidentally left a lamp on.
Nate sat in a Boston rocker, holding Lucy in his arms, his head bent as he watched his niece. Becky saw Nate’s mom move toward them from the kitchen, stopping beside the rocker and pressing a kiss first on the baby’s forehead, and then on Nate’s.
“You should be able to put her back to bed now,” Margaret murmured.
“I will. Good night, Mom. Get some sleep. The tornado danger has passed.”
“Good night, honey. I’m really relieved that you guys stayed over. I would have been worried sick if you’d gone out in the storm.”
Not wanting to intrude on a quiet family moment, Becky turned to go back to bed but stepped on a creaky floorboard.
“Becky, did we wake you?” Nate asked, smoothly shifting the baby from his elbow to his shoulder without waking her.
“No, I just got too hot.”
“Come on in and talk to another insomniac,” Margaret invited. She wore a pale-blue satin robe. The color softened her face. “You can go back to bed, Nate.”
Nate looked a little uncertain and hesitated. As well he should, leaving her to carry on the girlfriend charade by herself.
Margaret made a shooing motion. “Go on.”
He went upstairs, carrying Lucy with him. Becky watched him go with a sense of betrayal. He didn’t even look at her, didn’t see the “don’t go” expression on her face.
“Once a mother, always a mother.” Margaret smiled kindly at her, and Becky’s apprehension lessened. “Would you like a glass of warm milk to help you sleep?”
“Milk would be nice.” Becky had grown up on a farm, and milk had always soothed her. It brought back fond childhood memories.
“I’ll have some too.” Margaret got milk from the refrigerator and poured it into a pan to warm on the stove. When it heated, she poured it into coffee mugs and took them to the table.
Not knowing what else to do, Becky sat down across from her.
There was a cookie jar in the center of the table; Margaret fished out gingersnaps and offered two to Becky, while taking two for herself as well.
“Thank you for taking such good care of Lucy. Nate told me that she adores you.”
“I love her so much,” Becky blurted.
“That’s easy to see,” Margaret said. “And Lucy loves you.”
“She’s infinitely loveable.”
Margaret cleared her throat. “I realize we’ve only just met—and under some unusual circumstances—but I want you to know that I can tell you’ve made my son really happy.”
“Thank you,” she mumbled, feeling miserable for her fraud.
Guilt sat on her shoulder like a buzzard. How could she lie to this kind, sweet woman by pretending to be Nate’s girlfriend? First thing in the morning she was going to tell Nate that he had to be the bad guy. He had to be the one to break up with her. No matter what she might’ve said before about her being the one to break up with him.
Margaret yawned, although she put up a hand to cover it, and said, “Monitoring that storm has worn me out. I’m off to bed. Sleep well, dear Becky.”
Creeping slowly up the stairs after Margaret had gone to bed, Becky hoped to sneak into the guestroom without waking Nate. His mother’s tenderness had touched her, but she didn’t want to be influenced by it. She had to remember what she had with Nate wasn’t an actual relationship.
She closed the bedroom door and let her eyes get used to the darkness. She felt tired enough to sleep through a tornado, but the question was: where to sleep?
Because Nate was sprawled out in the middle of the bed.
“You, sir, are no gentleman,” she accused him in a whisper.
He was lying on his back, and his soft snoozing sounds couldn’t be faked. Bared to the waist, he had the sheet draped decorously over his bottom half, as though he tried to arrange himself in the sexiest plausible way without total exposure. Even if she was imagining his intent, she was right on target about the effect.
She was so tempted to crawl in bed beside him. Her cheek ached to feel the tickle of his chest hairs. Her head would fit very nicely in the crook of his arm.
“You rat,” she whispered, sure that he was trying to make her miserable with desire. Not only was he hogging the bed, he looked so cuddly and sweet while doing it, and it was all she could do not to curl up beside him.
Disgruntled and disgusted, she plopped down on the floor and punched the pillow a few times. This whole situation was getting out of hand.
Why couldn’t she meet a nice, normal man, and date him in the usual way? First, Kevin had exploited her as his employee and his girlfriend, and now Nate had involved her in a bogus relationship.
It confirmed her initial impression. Kevin and Nate were alike. Both big handsome studs who thought women existed for their convenience, and she’d had more of that than she could handle.
Twisting and turning in the bulky robe, she finally curled up, determined to drop off to sleep. Nate was snoozing just fine. He didn’t seem to see anything wrong with their strange arrangement. He wasn’t lying awake, wondering how it would feel to be together for real, her smooth skin pressed against his body, his big hands busy here and there. He was sleeping like a baby!
Wouldn’t it be great if she could have all that and still crawl up on his bed and rest her head on his chest?
Yeah, pipe dream. Forget Nate. Get some sleep.
And finally, she took her own advice.
Becky woke in a sunny room the next morning with the sound of the shower in the adjacent bathroom drumming in the background.
She allowed herself a couple of moments to think of Nate happily soaping down his gorgeous hide, then got out of bed, finger-combed her hair, and gathered the borrowed robe into what she hoped were regal folds.
Nate came into the room a few minutes later, wearing a chartreuse tank top that was her least favorite color in the world but on him, it looked spectacular.
Unshaven, with his damp hair a rich coppery shade of brown, he had a commanding presence. Unfortunately, he also had swagger, and right now he was scowling like a man who just swallowed a vinegar cocktail.
“Sorry.” He looked apologetic. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“It was time to get up. We need to talk.”
“Uh-oh. Sounds ominous.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, making sure the robe was fully closed from her neck to her calves.
He moved close, forcing her to look up at him, no doubt another of his clever cop interrogation techniques.
Intimidating.
“If it wasn’t for Lucy, I’d tell your mother the truth this minute,” she said.
Then he did the worst thing possible. He grinned.
“What are you grinning about?”
He shook his head and grinned wider. “You don’t cut me any slack, do you?”
“Why should I? You’re the one who got us into this mess.” She clicked her tongue, all too aware of how seductive his eyes looked when they crinkled with good humor.
“You are so…” He stepped even closer, and he was too tall for her see his face without tipping her head back. “Petite.”
“Is that your way of saying I’m short?”
“Your word, not mine.”
“I’m over five feet tall. It’s perfectly normal.”
“How much over five feet? Half an inch?”
“I’m five one, thank you very much, but I have great posture.”
“I can see that.” He looked bemused.
From where he was standing, probably all he could see was the top of her finger-combed hair, but she clutched the front of her robe even tighter and backed up, slipping on the pillow on the floor and stumbling.
She floundered, arms windmilling.
He was there t
o steady her, wrapping his hands around her upper arms. “Careful.”
“If I were the cautious type, I wouldn’t be in this mess,” she grumbled. “I hate having to face your parents again this morning. They are so nice.”
“Yeah, this is my proudest hour. I’d like to wring Freddie’s neck for putting us in this position.”
Us. He’d said “us” like they were a team.
“I wish I knew why she was being so darned mysterious. She trusted me with her kid, but not with a little information? Well, I’m not ready to have her declared a missing person yet. She texted once. Maybe she’ll text again soon.”
“If she doesn’t…”
He released his grip on her arms and stepped back. “I can’t be responsible for Lucy indefinitely. If I didn’t have you to babysit, I couldn’t do this at all. I owe you big time, Becky.”
“Remember, I won’t be available forever. The garden center opens next Monday. I think we should put a time limit on how long we pretend to be boyfriend and girlfriend.” She was whispering now, not knowing whether his parents were up or how thin the walls of the house might be. “I don’t want to make your sister look bad, but the truth will come out eventually.”
“How’s this? We will officially break up when your job starts. I’ll have to turn her over to Mom anyway when you can’t stay with her.”
“All right.” She nodded. “That’ll do. All I needed was a plan.”
“You got it.” He sounded far too cheerful for her liking, as if he couldn’t wait to get rid of her. And why did that bother her? Didn’t she want to be rid of him?
“One thing, Dalton. You’ll have to dump me.”
“But I thought you wanted to dump me.”
“Since this entire thing is your doing, after meeting your parents, I’ve decided you’re going to be the bad guy. You get to explain to your parents why you broke up with such a great gal like me.”
“They will be mad at me.” He looked surprised by that realization.
“I don’t want your mother to think that I’m a flake.”
The same way that you do, she almost added, understanding that he still saw her as the blue-haired ditz who tried to steal a check from her ex-boyfriend in the middle of the night. Would she ever live that down where he was concerned?