Last night, his hands had been on her ass. Once, in their office, she’d turned around and thought she’d caught him looking at her ass. Wes was an ass man. She looked down at the blank card.
“Okay. Now we’ll read the questions again. The men will answer and we’ll see what the ladies wrote.” Yes. They all knew how to play; she wanted to get on with it so she could see if they’d won.
“Wes, the name of your first pet was . . . ?”
“I never had a pet,” he answered. After the collective “aww” of pity, Jamie was instructed to hold up her card that said No pets. They moved on to the next person as Jamie and Wes gave each other a high five across the table.
Rob and Beth got their answer correct, but Lance and Holly didn’t. Neither did Curt and Wendy.
“Next question. Wes, who was your college roommate?”
“Zane Jackson.”
Jamie revealed her card with the same answer and the group clapped. All of the other teams got their answers right.
“Wes, what is your greatest achievement?” Misty prompted.
Wes pressed his lips together and then nodded. “Finishing the Holebrook job on time and under budget while I had bronchitis.”
Jamie held up her card which simply said Holebrook job. “He didn’t even complain about how crappy he felt. He was a real trooper.”
The other teams got their answers wrong. The wives gave a personal answer, while the husbands went with work achievements.
“Last question before we hand the cards over to the men. What would your husband say is his favorite part of your body?”
Everyone looked at Wes expectantly. He looked nervous about his answer, but with a sigh he shrugged and said, “Her eyes. Especially when she smiles. It makes my day every morning.”
Jamie smiled and flipped her card over, which also said Eyes.
Yes, Wes was an ass man, but she knew he’d never admit to having a thing for hers. Even if it was all part of the performance.
His face lit up when he saw her answer, and they met each other at the end of the table to chest bump and hug it out.
The other couples got their answers wrong.
The next round went just as well, leaving Wes and Jamie far ahead of the others.
“We’re getting our asses handed to us by the newlyweds,” Lance complained.
“You forget, Jamie has been my work wife for the last five years. We’ve probably spent more time together than you have with your real spouses.”
“No fair!” Rob said, as cries of “Cheater!” came from the other end of the table. In the end they were the victors, and received a gift card to dinner at a nice restaurant back home.
Wes winked at her as he took his seat again. She’d known how compatible they were and how much they knew about each other before the game. It was one of the reasons she hadn’t been that worried about them getting married.
But she’d never realized other people didn’t have what they had. Even married people.
Their relationship was something special.
* * * *
Wes was glad he hadn’t gone with his initial answer on the body-part question. Telling the whole world how much he enjoyed Jamie’s ass wouldn’t have been smart. Sure, everyone else would have understood, but it would have been awkward for Jamie and him. Especially since he’d only noticed his fondness for it last night as he was groping it through a towel. It was best to keep his thoughts off her ass. As well as his hands.
He’d gone with eyes for his answer, which was also true. And since he spent more time looking at her eyes than her ass, it was a valid response.
“Okay, everyone. Before we leave, I want to go around the table and each one of us is going to tell the story of the moment they knew they wanted to spend the rest of their lives with the person sitting across from them. Rob will start and we’ll move around the table to the right.”
Great. It meant he was going to be third. He needed to come up with something quick. Rob’s story went on for what seemed like forever, but Wes still hadn’t come up with anything by the time Curt started.
Damn the man, he’d kept his story short and sickeningly sweet. It was only a matter of minutes before all eyes were on Weston.
He looked up at the only set of eyes that mattered. Jamie was smiling at him. No doubt she expected him to come up with some outlandish and fictitious tale.
Instead he opened his mouth and told the truth. Or as close to it as possible.
“It was five years ago in January. I knew I was getting a partner, and I knew she was starting that morning. I’d read over her file and noted her credentials. I knew she was qualified, but I wasn’t all that excited about the prospect of a partner. Especially not one who would share my office.” The others chuckled at his grimace.
“When she walked in with Rob, I welcomed her. I, of course, noticed she was pretty, but beyond that I didn’t let myself dwell on the fact she was female. She was a co-worker and therefore I made sure to keep it professional.
“Rob left us alone and she sat at her desk, looking nervous and uncomfortable. We chatted in an effort to get to know one another, but she was still a stranger.”
His gaze was locked on hers.
“Until Cindy brought in my model of the Hudson River Overlook and set it on the worktable. Jamie’s face came alive with interest as she walked closer to it.” He swallowed, remembering the pride he felt to inspire such emotion.
“She stared at it for a long moment. Her finger followed the line of the building and then stopped.” He paused a moment for dramatic effect as Jamie pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh. “Then she said, ‘This is amazing, but if it were me, I would continue this line underneath the glass so it’s more fluid and reflects the lines of the water.’”
Everyone laughed, including him. But then he held up his hand.
“The thing is, she was absolutely right. We changed it and it looked so much better. I knew at that moment she was going to truly be my partner. That we would complement each other’s strengths and fortify each other’s weaknesses. And five years later our bond is stronger than anything I’ve ever built in my life.”
He studied her face, seeing her more clearly than he ever had.
The group had quieted except for Wendy, who let out a little sound of awe. Then everyone clapped and their moment was broken.
“Nice job,” Curt said next to him, his eyes shining.
* * * *
“Your turn, Jamie,” Misty prompted.
Jamie let out a breath and nodded. “Mine’s a tearjerker. Someone pass Curt a tissue.” The group laughed as she bit her lip and looked up to meet her husband’s gaze. He gave her strength.
“It was when my father’s cancer returned.” She hadn’t told anyone at work about her father’s illness. Telling people made it too real. She wasn’t ready yet. It was easy now. These people assumed it was something in the past. Something that was over.
“I stupidly thought I was prepared for it. He had been in remission, and I had hope, but I always knew it could come back. As it turned out, I wasn’t prepared at all. It hit me worse than it had at the initial diagnosis. Maybe because my father didn’t even tell me himself. He made Wes tell me.”
She frowned at him, feeling bad that he was put in that situation. Though she wouldn’t have wanted anyone else with her when she found out. Wes reached across the table and ran his fingers over her knuckles. She turned her hand so she could squeeze his.
“I tried not to cry. I was keeping it together. But when Weston confirmed my suspicions, I broke down. I think he was waiting for it, because he was standing so close when it happened. He held me up when my legs couldn’t. I cried for a long time, and he held me together when I thought I was going to break apart.” The pain twisted in her stomach at the memory.
“It was then that I r
ealized I didn’t need to pretend to be strong for Wes. I knew he would be there to hold me up when I couldn’t do it myself. I know, no matter what, he will always be there.”
She heard a sniff beside Weston as Rob passed Curt a napkin. But her gaze stayed on her husband, who stood and came around the table. When he got to her seat, he knelt down and pulled her close.
“He’s going to be okay, Jamie. I believe that with all my heart,” he whispered so only she could hear. Jamie nodded and pulled back to look at him again.
He was a handsome man, her husband, but there was something else there in his face as she looked at him. Friendship, loyalty, and maybe even a hint of love—not the gushy kind, but the kind that comes from caring about someone for years on end.
“Thank you,” she said back. They moved to the next person as Wes took her chair, pulling her onto his lap until they were dismissed. She leaned against him, enjoying the safety and security that was Weston Archer.
“What you said tonight. That was very romantic,” Jamie said as they walked back to their cottage. They’d been holding hands as the crowd dispersed, but there was no reason why they were still holding hands, except that he hadn’t let go and neither had she.
It was just hands touching. It didn’t mean anything.
“I thought if I gave a romantic story I might get a pass on Romance 101,” he joked.
“You know I would let you out of it.” She smiled. “I don’t need you to be any more romantic than what you already are. It’s a hazard to our plan.” Just the warmth of his hand wrapped around hers sent a constant tingle up her arm. Right to her heart.
“For the record, I was touched by what you said too. Maybe we should stick with fake stories from now on.”
Maybe he was feeling the shift between them too. She shouldn’t be playing her part so convincingly. The problem was, she wasn’t acting.
“Agreed,” she said quickly.
“I doubt anyone will question us.”
“Not after tonight.”
Wes let go of her hand to open the door to their cottage and the spell between them dissipated into the cool night air like a ghost.
She took her pajamas into the bathroom, while Wes changed in the room. When he gave the all clear, she came out and jumped in bed so he could go brush his teeth.
They said a friendly goodnight to one another before Wes turned off the light and got in bed next to her. God, he was warm. She could feel his body heat from a few inches away. It was glorious, even though it was already warm in the room.
It might have been fifteen minutes or an hour, Jamie didn’t know. Her mind was too busy doing that thing where it played every awful scenario it could come up with and repeated it relentlessly until she gave up on falling asleep.
“Weston? Are you asleep?” she asked.
“Yes. Very deeply asleep.” His voice was so low it barely disturbed the darkness.
“Good. I wanted to ask you something, but I didn’t want to wake you.” The bed moved with his silent laughter.
“What is it?”
“I was just wondering . . .” She swallowed. “Will you be there?”
“Be there? Where?”
“If my dad doesn’t . . . get better. Will you help me?” Her voice sounded so small.
The bed shifted and the light turned on, blinding her momentarily.
“First of all, your dad isn’t giving up, so you shouldn’t be worrying about this. And secondly, you know I would. Why would you even need to ask me?” His blue eyes sparked like fire.
“Talking about it tonight made me think about it. And I don’t think I could get through it without you.”
“You wouldn’t have to.” He reached out his arm and pulled her against him. While her head rested on his bare chest, she was released from her earlier sexual urges. This was friendship and kindness. This was them, how they were meant to be.
“We’ll call your dad tomorrow morning to see how he’s feeling,” he said. She felt his breath in her hair and was instantly calmed.
“Thank you.”
He turned the light off again and she felt him kiss the top of her head. “Like you said tonight, I’ll always be here.”
Chapter 15
Ben didn’t know what he was doing at MacGregor’s. He wanted to think it was because he liked the food. He did like the food, but actually it had been the company he’d had the last time he was in the pub, where he was seated now.
He’d invited Anna to lunch in an effort to get to know her better, but it hadn’t worked out as planned. She’d gone back to being the shy Anna he worked with every day.
She answered his questions politely, but didn’t offer anything else. She was just as much a mystery as she’d always been.
One thing he learned was that she’d been with the company for eight years. She’d originally been his father’s assistant, and then went to work for Richard before he ditched her on Ben. At the time, Richard hadn’t said why he didn’t want her to work for him any longer. He just said he had someone else he wanted to hire, and Ben needed an assistant.
After the handoff he expected he was getting the short end of the deal, but Anna was always competent and professional. Maybe a little too professional for his liking at times. Her experience working with all three Archers gave her insight into every facet of the company. She, no doubt, knew more about the inner workings of the company than he did.
MacGregor’s was busier than it had been during his last visit, but that was to be expected on a Saturday night. In the corner of the room a band was setting up and he ordered a beer to settle in for the evening. He’d spent his day off at the office doing the same thing he did every other day of the week. He needed a life.
Maybe enjoying the musical talent of Hellz Bellz would be a step in that direction.
He was halfway through his first drink when a woman captured his attention as she walked through the door. Her long hair was pulled up in a high ponytail, revealing the shaved locks underneath, which had been died bright purple.
The dim light reflected off the Monroe piercing above her lip and something inside him stirred. He’d always liked the wild girls. Reckless girls. Women who were so unlike his real life he felt free to be whoever he wanted.
She shrugged off the guitar from her shoulder and greeted the other members of the band as he watched. Her legs were long, covered in red leggings down to her black ankle boots. She wore a silvery shirt and a black leather motorcycle jacket. He couldn’t look away.
After a brief sound check the mic squeaked and the bartender gave it a tap.
“You ready, Bellz?”
The wild woman he’d become fixated on—Bellz, apparently—gave a nod.
“Welcome, everyone, to Saturday Night at MacGregor’s Pub! We’re happy to have local favorite Hellz Bellz with us tonight. Get ready to have some fun.”
The bartender put the mic back in its holder as the band cranked up. They had a great sound, and he was sure the other members were doing an adequate job, but his gaze was stuck on the woman with the guitar. When she leaned in and began to sing, he twitched with arousal. Her voice, low and flinty, completed the sexy package.
By the end of the first set he was well and truly entranced. As she walked toward the bar, he stood, ready to greet her and tell her how wonderful she sounded. He didn’t even care if he sounded like a complete fangirl.
But as she approached the bar, she froze in front of him, eyes wide.
“Ben? What are you doing here?”
He recognized the voice despite the fact it didn’t go with the woman standing in front of him.
“Anna?”
* * * *
“Shit,” was all Anna could think to say. That one word encompassed so many things. Her anger at herself for bringing him to the pub in the first place. Worry that he would think she was unprofe
ssional and not want her to work for his company. Nervousness. He’d just heard her perform. What had he thought? Did he like it?
“I can’t believe it’s you,” he said, obviously stunned.
“Yep. It’s me. How long have you been here?” Maybe he’d just walked in and hadn’t watched.
“Since you got here.”
“What did you think of the show?” She fought back a wince, and tried to sound confident.
“Amazing. I had no idea you could sing and play the guitar.”
“This is where the real me gets to come out.”
“This is the real you? What are you at work?”
“Restrained,” she said with a smile. “Very restrained.”
“I’m sorry about that.” He actually looked sorry.
“It’s kind of the way things have to be. I need to be professional at work, and that means looking the part, right?”
“Did you just get this?” he gestured toward his lip, indicating her piercing.
“No. I wear a clear plastic spacer at work so no one sees it.”
“And your hair?”
“When it’s down you can’t see the purple.”
“Amazing. You’re like a secret agent.” He smiled. She’d always loved his smile, even though she rarely ever saw it.
“Bellz? You want the reverb turned up for the next song?” Chuck, her bass player, asked as much to see if she needed the reverb as to make sure she didn’t need any help getting rid of her new “fan.” It was their secret code.
“No, that’s okay. I can take care of it. Thanks.” Her answer meant she could take care of this guy too. Or so she hoped.
The way he was looking at her made her tingly. He was a very handsome man, but his intensity always kept her from fantasizing about him. Seeing him in jeans and a T-shirt drinking a beer transformed him right in front of her eyes.
The fantasies she’d been holding in swirled around in her mind unbidden, and very unwelcome.
“So Bellz, huh?”
“My real name is Annabelle. My friends call me Bellz.”
The Work Wife Page 17