Just a Little Bit Married

by Teresa Southwick

  “Okay.” She deleted that file. “Let’s try something else. Something less...streamlined.”

  Linc looked carefully at the images as she explained her ideas in detail. Squares and angles for an edgy feel. Geometric with splashes of turquoise, orange and yellow in a lamp here, a wall-hanging there. Or throw pillows.

  “Nope,” he said, then elaborated. “Just not feelin’ it.”

  “Okay.” She nodded thoughtfully. “Let’s go through each room and tell me what you don’t care for.”

  He decided to humor her although he could have made it fast.

  When the critique was finished, she looked at him with one eyebrow raised. “So, there was nothing about that design you liked?”

  “Sorry.” He shrugged.

  “I really thought you’d like that one.”

  “If you want me to, I can lie.”

  “Of course not. You have to be honest. I want you to be happy with the finished product. But this one is a lot like your place in Texas. The bachelor pad you had when we were together.”

  The one he’d planned to sell or rent. He’d already started looking at houses, a place for them to live and raise a family together. Bitterness at the beautiful, broken dream rolled through him. Since then he’d learned it was better not to have dreams. That way you wouldn’t be disappointed.

  “It was a lifetime ago,” he finally said. “Since then I’ve—”

  “Evolved. Yeah, that’s the rumor.” She deleted that file. “Okay. Third time’s the charm.”

  “I’m sure it will be a winner,” he assured her.

  But he was mistaken and gave it thumbs-down.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, exasperated but trying to act as if she wasn’t.

  “Everything is too...fluffy. Too padded. There’s a lot of, how should I say this...roundness.”

  “Really?” She gave him a skeptical look. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard one of my clients describe something that way before.”

  “Feel free to borrow it anytime,” he offered.

  She stood and blew out a long breath. “What’s going on with you, Linc?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “You’re being deliberately narrow-minded.”

  This was a new side of her, he thought. It was evident last night when he picked her up at the airport and she’d gone toe-to-toe with him and refused to reveal the reason for her trip. And now, he was seeing a toughness about her that was different. He’d once found her innocence intoxicating and he regretted that he’d missed everything that made her who she was now. But this strength was pretty damn sexy.

  He folded his arms over his chest. “Narrow-minded? What ever happened to the customer is always right?”

  “I get it.” She nodded. “Designs are like men. You have to kiss a lot of them to find a winner. But I’m sensing something else is going on here. You’re elevating difficult to the level of art form.”

  “How can you say that?”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” She tapped her lip. “Could be your critique, and let me give you examples. Orange isn’t the new black, it’s only for Halloween and maybe not even then. Glass and chrome make you want to wear sunglasses indoors. And my personal favorite—too much roundness.”

  “What can I say?”

  “Admit you were digging deep to reject everything about these designs.”

  “In creative endeavors isn’t a thick skin required? Is it a little possible that you’re being just the tiniest bit sensitive?”

  “I’ll own up to that if you’ll acknowledge that you might be dragging your feet just the tiniest bit,” she said, imitating his choice of words.

  Her assessment struck a chord but he wouldn’t go down easily. “Why would I do that?”

  “Exactly what I was wondering. Care to hazard a guess?”

  He had one but she wouldn’t like it. For that matter he wasn’t too happy, either. This presentation coming on the heels of her unexpected trip and his realization that he’d missed her a lot while she was gone had led him to a disconcerting conclusion. He might be looking for excuses to delay and keep her in Blackwater Lake a little longer.

  “Nope,” he said. “No guesses.”

  She glared at him. “All I have to say is since you and I have completely different visions of how a living space should look, it’s a good thing we’re not married.”

  “It’s a technicality,” he said, “because we are actually married until the divorce papers are signed.”

  “Yes. Mason filled me in on the time frame.” Whatever he’d said didn’t make her look happy. She looked down as if something was going through her mind that she didn’t want him to see. “About that—maybe our personal limbo is the problem you’re having with decorating this place. It’s possible that there’s underlying tension, what with the divorce hanging over us.”

  He could have told her that. His tension was off the charts. He wanted her in his arms, in his bed. That was his grim reality. Visions of touching every square inch of her silky bare skin filled his dreams and made him want the reality. The only thing stopping him was that hitting on her while she was committed to another man would prove Linc actually was as big a jerk as she believed.

  “Do you feel tension?” It was an effort to keep his voice neutral, normal.

  “No.” Her answer came a little too fast. “But if you want to terminate our contract and hire someone else, I would completely understand.”

  “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

  “Of course not. I need the work. And the referrals. But I also want you to be happy. And if I’m not the one to do that then you should find someone else. Another decorator. For your home,” she added.

  “The environment here is important to me, too.” But for a different reason. When the contract was fulfilled his debt to her would be satisfied. “And I believe you’re the perfect person for the job.”

  “Okay.” She blew out a long breath. “So, it’s back to the drawing board. What do you want, Linc?”

  “Your place.” He hadn’t planned to say that, but it was true.

  “I’m sorry. What?”

  “Your apartment. I liked the feel of it. Warm and welcoming.” The things in it played a part, but he had a feeling the overall effect had more to do with the fact that she lived in it. That wasn’t going to happen here. When this job was done, she was gone.

  “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do.” She tapped her lip and seemed to be thinking things over.

  “Don’t keep me in suspense.”

  “Most of your...comments were about furniture and color choices. So we’ll start with furnishings. We’ll look at styles on the internet and narrow things down, get a sense of what appeals to you.”

  She appealed to him but that’s not what she meant. “There’s a town about an hour from Blackwater Lake. It’s bigger and has a furniture store. We can go look.”

  “Good idea. If you can spare the time.”

  “I can.” And the idea of an outing with her was pretty damned appealing.

  Call him a glutton for punishment, but he couldn’t resist the temptation to spend time with her while she was there. But if he’d learned anything from the time she’d been gone, it was this. His punishment wasn’t having her here. It would start when she left for good.

  * * *

  Linc had been brooding for a couple of days, since his meeting with Rose at the condo and their trip to the furniture store. The plan to throw some work her way, rescue her business and atone for his behavior ten years ago had seemed so simple before. But putting it into practice after kissing her had been complex and problematic. The only easy decision was the one to keep her on. He didn’t want anyone else to decorate his condo.

  Looking out the big window of
his new office, he savored the sight of Black Mountain. It had been named after the town’s founding family and beat the heck out of the view of flat landscape that he saw in Dallas. He had a good feeling about relocating here and hoped his rosy outlook, no pun intended, didn’t change when Rose left.

  After spending time with her, the prospect of this town without her in it wasn’t quite as cheerful. It was entirely possible he’d subconsciously sabotaged her presentation as a delaying tactic. Identifying the problem was half the battle so he would work on being more cooperative.

  He’d brought the borrowed card table and chairs to his newly leased office space and would keep it until the furniture arrived in a couple of days. This retail center built by Burke and Sloan Holden was ninety percent occupied and located a couple miles from their hotel project nearing completion.

  Linc had plans with his brother-in-law for several new housing developments and multiple neighborhoods with graduated price points. There would be a population increase following all the new construction in the area and the expanded workforce would need housing.

  He was setting up his laptop on the card table when the office door opened. He smiled when the familiar figure walked in. “Well, if it isn’t Sam Hart.”

  “Hey, Linc. Alex said I’d find you here.”

  “And why were you looking for me?”

  “To say hello.”

  He knew Sam was very soon relocating the Hart financial corporate offices to Blackwater Lake and was here to check on the building. But he had a feeling the move was more than a business decision. “Ellie got to you, too.”

  “About this town being the best place in the whole world?” There was a twinkle in the other man’s eyes. “Maybe. But I’ll deny it if you tell her that.”

  “Me? Betray a brother’s trust? As far as I’m concerned it’s strictly business.” Linc shook his head. But he felt a small twinge of regret. He’d meant “brother” in the sense of male solidarity because you couldn’t have it both ways. Either you were a Hart and part of the inner circle or you weren’t. He wasn’t. “How does the rest of the family feel about this move?”

  “You know Mom. There’s drama before she gives her blessing to, and I quote, ‘whatever will make you happy.’”

  “And moving away from Dallas will do that for you?”

  “Any place where my ex-wife didn’t try to drag out our divorce and, not only do her damnedest to clean me out but get her hooks into Hart Industries, too, has got to be an improvement.”

  “That was a hard time for you.”

  “Hard? Such a small, insignificant word to describe the hell that woman put me through.” Sam shook his head. “Never again.”

  “What did Hastings say about branching out?”

  “You mean Dad?”

  “Your dad, not mine.”

  Not for the first time since learning the truth, Linc studied his half brother. His own height was six feet, but Sam was a couple of inches taller and his hair was quite a bit darker. They both had blue eyes, but Linc’s were a different shade. Ellie, Sam and Cal all had their father’s chin, but Linc’s came from a stranger his mother had slept with. A man who had stooped to taking advantage of a vulnerable woman.

  “Dad thinks the expansion is a good way to grow the company and told our Mom that Blackwater Lake isn’t on another planet.” Sam sighed. “I’ll be commuting for a few weeks while the finishing touches are completed. The house I’m building here is nearly finished, too.”

  “You’re building? Ellie didn’t mention that.”

  “Shocking lack of transparency since she’s the architect and Alex is the building contractor.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me as much as Ellie missing an opportunity to share news and gossip.” Although, to be fair, their sister had been preoccupied with the fact that Linc had been married and she didn’t know.

  “Speaking of gossip and news...” Sam folded his arms over his chest. “She told me about you and Rose.”

  “What exactly did she say?” Linc had known this would happen, but didn’t want to reveal more detail than his sister already had.

  “That you had the shortest marriage in Hart family history. Even more brief than our own infamous Uncle Foster’s union with what’s-her-name.”

  “Again. Hastings’s brother is your uncle, not mine.”

  “Doesn’t matter who claims him. He’s had a colorful and checkered past where women are concerned.”

  “I’m not a Hart.”

  Sam held up a hand. “That so isn’t where I was going with this.”

  “I probably don’t want to hear that, either.”

  “Don’t care what you want.” Sam shrugged. “And I’d put odds on the fact that you’re not going to want to hear this, but tough. According to our sister, who, rumor has it, is very good at observing and making accurate assumptions about these things, there is still something going on between you and Rose. Even after all this time.”

  Linc snorted. “Ellie is a romantic and sees what she wants to see. If you will, through rose-colored glasses. Pardon the pun.”

  “Look, she told me why you ended the marriage. Also that you screwed up the divorce.”

  “She’ll never let me live that down,” Linc grumbled.

  “She’s not the only one. But that’s not my point. I get it, Linc. Why you went into a tailspin after finding out who your dad is. Ellie doesn’t understand why you can’t shrug it off, join hands with everyone and sing ‘Kumbaya,’ but I can see how getting information like that would destroy a guy’s whole foundation.”

  “Good.” He was glad someone was on Team Linc. “Then you know why Rose is off-limits.”

  “If you really feel that way, why is she here to decorate your condo?”

  Linc explained about her failing business and his intention to make amends by giving her a hand. “So you can understand that other than a business boost, there can’t be anything personal between us.”

  “Actually, I really don’t get it.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah.” Sam slid his fingertips into the front pockets of his slacks. “It’s been ten years, there’s still a spark and you’re not divorced. Seems like a whole lot of check marks in the ‘second chance’ column to me.”

  “After your less than successful romantic track record, do you really think you’re the best one to give me advice?” Linc let that sink in, then added, “There isn’t anything between Rose and me and there never can be because my situation hasn’t changed.”

  “Sure it has. You’ve had a lot of years to get over the shock. A lot of years to get over her. And if Ellie is right about her power to sniff out the chemistry between you and Rose, it’s something you should explore.”

  “So says the man who vows never again,” Linc reminded him.

  “We’re talking about you, not me.” Sam didn’t look the least bit offended.

  “Did Ellie send you to talk to me?”

  “That’s classified.”

  “I’m going to take that as a yes.” This was damned irritating. He was having a hard enough time keeping his hands off Rose as it was. He didn’t need his older brother, the one he’d always looked up to, giving his blessing to push the envelope. “And since when are you my fairy godmother? Or, for that matter, do what Ellie tells you to do?”

  “Since always, little brother. Don’t you? At least I’m sensitive. I thought it best to have this, we’re on a pun roll, Hart-to-Hart here at your office, where it’s just the two of us. Man-to-man.”

  Linc figured it was a waste of energy to remind him yet again that he wasn’t a Hart. In spite of his irritation, the blatant admission regarding his motivation drew a reluctant smile from Linc. “I try not to let Ellie know how much power she has.”

  “Good luck with that, little b
rother.”

  “I know.” Linc dragged his fingers through his hair. “But there are two reasons why our sister is wrong about this.”

  “And what might those be?” Sam asked.

  “Rose is involved with a man. I don’t cross that line.”

  His brother frowned. “It’s not crossing a line if you just tell her how you feel. So, I repeat, if you still have feelings for her put them out there.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Nothing has changed. I’m still not a Hart. When we got married she thought I was. She thought she knew what she was getting, but she didn’t.”

  “She knows now what happened, so does it really matter anymore?”

  “It does to me.” Linc started pacing and there was a lot of room to do it since the space was nearly empty. He needed a lot of area because the intensity pouring through him was big. “I don’t know who I am.”

  “Do you even realize what a ridiculous, archaic attitude that is?”

  “That’s easy for you to say since you’re not the one who’s a bastard,” Linc retorted. “You’re completely secure in your DNA.”

  “You are the same person I grew up with,” Sam protested. “The same brother and son you always were.”

  “No.” Linc shook his head. “Now half of me is a mystery.”

  “Okay,” Sam agreed. “Whose fault is that?”

  “Off the top of my head, I’d say it’s our mother’s fault, along with the man who seduced her.”

  “Not what I meant. Find out about your DNA. Fill in the blanks.”

  “What are you suggesting?”

  “If the unknown is what’s holding you back, change it. Get to know your biological father.”

  Linc stopped pacing and met his brother’s gaze. “What if he’s a jerk who takes advantage of women?”

  “That’s his problem, not yours. It’s not what you do.”

  “I did it to Rose ten years ago. I walked out on her. And he did it to our mother. I researched him. He’s been married four times and divorced three.”

  “Poor bastard,” Sam said.

  “What if I inherited the jerk factor from him?”