Working on a Full House

by Alyssa Kress

  "This time."

  Valerie nodded and sucked in her lower lip. This wouldn't be the last occasion on which he dropped in to check up on her. So whatever she did now would set a precedent, a tenor for all the visits he'd just warned her were to come. She had to think about that. Hard.

  Sending him to a hotel for one measly night might transmit the wrong message, that she was thinking along sexual lines. Given how far she'd surrendered thus far, there'd be no reason to kick him out of her house other than a worry over the sexual element. But she didn't want Roy to guess she was even thinking about sex, because if he wasn't...? God, that would be embarrassing!

  "Well." She dipped her tea bag up and down in her cup. "What I said before, about staying in a hotel — I was ticked off when I said it."

  "Um...yeah. I gathered as much."

  Valerie glanced over at him. His face revealed nothing. Did he even care if she invited him to stay the night? Heck, maybe it was all the same to him.

  Valerie lifted a shoulder. "Going to a hotel would be silly. If you insist on taking care of the baby, unborn as it may be, you might as well stay here."

  He went still. It was only for an instant, the barest sliver of time, almost not enough to notice, except that Valerie did notice. Then he moved, leaning back in his seat and giving Valerie a cool nod. "Fine," he said. "Thanks."

  Why had he stilled like that? Meanwhile, her face flushed as she struggled to sound off-hand. "I do have that guest suite. If ever there was a time it should be used, it's got to be now."

  "Right." Roy gave another sober nod.

  "There's no good reason to spend money on a hotel room." Valerie willed her face to stop blushing, but doubted it worked.

  "No. No good reason." Roy did not appear to notice her embarrassment as he suddenly leaned forward over the table. "And in the morning, let's go over what I can do for you. You know, in the way of errands and such."

  "Oh." Valerie blinked. She still couldn't see the wolf doing her laundry, but it appeared useless to argue. "Sure."

  "This is going to work," Roy said, and leaned back again. "It's going to work just fine." And then, damn him, he gave her one of his slow, almost shy — and completely devastating — smiles. "Thank you, Valerie."

  ~~~

  He was in.

  Roy lay under the pretty striped sheets of Valerie's guest bed with his hands behind his head. Yeah, he was in; he'd gotten his way about staying at Valerie's house. Meanwhile Kenny hadn't squawked about having to find a hotel room when Roy had called him an hour ago. On the contrary, cheerleader Kenny had seemed happy to do so.

  But Roy's 'in' situation wasn't turning out to feel like much of a triumph.

  He rubbed his teeth slantwise and gazed at the smoothly painted ceiling above. She'd invited him to stay. She'd said, there's no good reason to spend money on a hotel room.

  No good reason? Did she think he was a eunuch? Did she think none of his touches, none of his gazes had meant a thing? Did she think he was supposed to lie here, aching, when there were about a million watts of electricity between them?

  Roy ground his teeth in earnest. Clearly, she didn't see him as a threat. No, strike that. She didn't see him as a contender.

  Visions of the house came back to Roy, of the careful interior decoration, of the loving touches. Now, however, he saw it all in a different light. She'd built this house, taken this care, long before she'd ever met him.

  She'd created this home for a different man. She'd prepared this nest for a different egg.

  Roy narrowed his eyes at the innocent ceiling. The fact that he was lying here in the guest suite couldn't have made the point more clear. She might be physically attracted to him, but she wasn't considering him a candidate for lifelong mate — or even interim bed partner.

  Well. Shrugging off a dismaying shimmer of fear, Roy drew in a deep breath. He was simply going to have to work on changing that perception of hers, then, wasn't he?

  He was a contender. In fact, he was the only contender. He was the father of the child growing in her belly and he was going to be the man living in her house. He was her husband, for crissake.

  Roy would simply have to see to it that Valerie forgot all about any previous fellows. He'd end up the man sleeping in her bed.

  Which meant that Valerie was right about at least one thing. There would be no sense spending money on hotel rooms.

  With a huff, Roy made a determined effort to dismiss the distinct possibility of defeat. Then he turned over to get some sleep.

  ~~~

  In the motel room with the polka dot bedspread and the stained lampshades, Kenny closed up his cell phone. He couldn't help grinning. Roy was sounding, for Roy, very happy and excited. Yes, the ultra-cool, utterly unflappable Roy hadn't sounded very cool or unflapped at all. More like buzzingly stimulated and terribly nervous. Kenny chuckled and tossed his phone onto a desk.

  It was past midnight, but he hadn't bothered to undress or get ready for bed in the room he'd rented after his solitary meal at a Kentucky Fried Chicken. He was too buzzed, himself.

  Cherise. That's what Roy had told Kenny was her name. Cherise Winter. Looking like a long, cinnamon drink of milk, sounding like a sharp bite of whiskey, and giving off the vibrations of a well-tuned Lamborghini, Cherise Winter, nurse practitioner, allegedly ball-breaking best friend of Valerie Beaujovais, had in one masterly, if unwitting, sweep stolen his heart.

  Smiling, Kenny paced to the window and drew aside the curtain. He sighed dreamily at the cars parked in the lot. Cherise Winter was everything he hadn't even realized he'd ever fantasized in a woman. Cool, collected, disciplined. Positively regal.

  And yet — and yet — something other. Something more. Something tantalizingly out of reach, just under the surface.

  She was utterly compelling.

  Kenny let the curtain drop. He paced back toward the desk where he fiddled with the motel's stationery pad. He was well aware of the reckless direction of his thoughts. Oh yes, he'd been down this path before — perhaps too many times before. In fact, he'd promised himself he wouldn't go here again. Fall in love, get foolish, and end up on his knees proposing happily-ever-after to some female.

  Three marriages, and three divorces, were quite enough for any one human being — particularly when they'd all happened by the age of thirty-five.

  Kenny's lips curved happily, though, as he turned the stationery pad this way and that. Oh, sure he'd promised himself he wasn't going to take the plunge again, but that was the kind of promise meant to be broken. Who could limit the rocks and rolls he was going to take on the adventure ride of life? The game involved taking risks, and occasionally doing something stupid.

  If anyone was worth doing something stupid over, it had to be the gorgeous creature Kenny had met that evening.

  Not that Kenny was about to propose marriage again, no matter how wildly he fell in love. He just wanted to...get through to her. See what happened when she lost her veneer of control.

  Kenny slid the stationery pad against the base of the lamp and whirled to pace across the room. There was only one point that worried him. She'd promised to meet him Friday night, three days from now. Had he been a complete idiot to believe her?

  In front of the TV now, Kenny picked up the remote, while seeing in his mind Cherise's cool smile.

  What she'd pulled was a classic bum's rush. She'd used his yearning against him, asked him to believe his impression she was secretly attracted. He'd thought she was. The way she'd almost smiled at his jokes, the way she'd let him stand inside her bubble, the way she'd seemed to want to know what he was going to do next. Right up until the end he'd thought she was looking for an excuse to give in to him.

  But then something had changed. Her playful resistance had turned cutting. Almost spiteful.

  Shaking his head, Kenny put the remote on top of the TV. He couldn't imagine why she might hate him, but neither could he imagine her actually showing up at Norman's Art Supply on Friday night. The od
ds were solidly against it. Except for one thing...

  That kiss.

  Kenny's mouth curved into a pleased smile. Yes, that mini-fireworks of a kiss. One sixteenth of a second of pure heaven.

  If Cherise had felt that kiss half as much as he had, she'd meet him on Friday night.

  Still grinning, Kenny drew his sweater vest over his head, then set to work on the buttons of his shirt. He had nothing to worry about. She'd be there.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Roy was already in the kitchen and dressed by the time Valerie came downstairs the next morning. Fortunately, she'd braced herself for his presence. A man as determined as this one wasn't going to sleep in.

  All the same, it was jarring to see him there, quietly turning on the flame under the teakettle. He was wearing tan chinos and a shirt of soft material, something that hinted at his very male muscles. He looked like an exotic, and rather dangerous, pet.

  "Good morning." She did her best to produce a banal smile.

  Roy turned around. Their eyes met. She didn't know how he did it — or even if he did it, but she suddenly felt an intimacy in the situation. As if his spending the night had been spending the night.

  "Good morning." He smiled.

  His smile made heat splash beneath her clothes, but she still wasn't sure if he was actively doing something, or if it was just her imagination. Valerie swallowed privately. "Finding everything okay?"

  "Yep." He turned back to adjust the flame under the teakettle. "What do you want for breakfast?"

  "Oh, just toast. I'll fix it myself."

  To her relief, he didn't argue. Valerie set about getting a piece of bread and dropping it into the toaster. Meanwhile she was aware of Roy drawing a box of cereal out of the pantry and turning it to look at the side label.

  It was like they were living together.

  Roy took out the cereal and poured a bowl for himself at the breakfast nook table. Valerie finished making her toast. She tried her very best to present an easy, casual front because, hey, this was no big deal, sharing breakfast with this enormously attractive man. She put her toast on a plate and took a seat opposite his. She forced herself to take a bite. Roy had been right about one thing. Her stomach was happier if she kept some food in it.

  "I started a grocery list," Roy said.

  "Really, Roy. I can take care of getting my own groceries."

  He gave her an amused look. "You can go over the list and add or change — to make sure you get what you actually want and need. Or you can let me guess. But I'm going to buy you groceries."

  Valerie sighed deeply.

  "And I noticed you need a new washer in the powder room sink. I might as well take care of that for you, too."

  Valerie raised her eyebrows. "You know how?"

  "Sure." He concentrated on his cereal, shoveling it in the way men do. In between bites, he said, "But I'll need a key to the house, so I can lock it up when I go shopping and then be able to get in again."

  A key to the house. Valerie's eyes narrowed but Roy continued muscularly shoveling corn flakes, as if he hadn't asked for anything out of the ordinary.

  "Sure, I'll lend you a key," she agreed slowly. "But I'll need it back before you return to Las Vegas."

  "Mm hm." He seemed unperturbed by her stipulation. "No problem. I'll want to get out of town before rush hour, so..." He tapped his spoon on the edge of his bowl. "It makes sense to give you the key on my way out of town. Hey. I could drop by your office."

  "What?" Valerie stopped breathing. Drop by her office? Was the man mad? Nobody at the office knew about him, with the exception of Cherise, and Cherise thought Roy was old history. How was Valerie to explain who he was? "Uh, coming by my office...won't be necessary. You could leave the key inside the house."

  "Mm. Not too easily. Your deadbolt requires a key to turn it from the outside. I wouldn't be able to lock up if I left the key inside."

  He was correct. And the door was too tight against the threshold for him to stick the key under the door once it was locked. Valerie felt as if walls were closing in on her. "You don't need to throw the deadbolt. The house will be okay."

  Roy set his spoon down on the table. "You're pregnant."

  "Uh..." And this had to do with her key, how?

  "In a few weeks you're not going to be able to hide it any more."

  "Um..." Okay, that was true, but —

  "It'll be a lot easier to explain the baby to people if it's established I'm in the picture beforehand."

  Valerie sat and stared at him. This wasn't about her house key at all. "You want to be in the picture?" she blurted.

  He looked at her like she was a particularly dense student in a remarkably easy class. "I am in the picture. Seems to me the earlier I'm seen in the frame, the better."

  It didn't seem that way to Valerie. It seemed to her it would be a lot easier if no one ever knew of his existence. But looking at him with his bowl of cornflakes at her kitchen table, she realized that was probably not a realistic expectation. He intended to be around — a lot.

  "Let the people you know see us as...together," Roy went on. "Then it won't be such a big deal when they find out about the baby, or that we're married."

  Valerie drew in a sharp breath. People were going to find out she was married to Roy? Well...yes. Perhaps that was inevitable.

  "But still — " she temporized. Having Roy come to the office... It seemed horribly deceitful, or at least grossly overstating the situation. They were married, but they weren't really together.

  Roy raised his eyebrows. "They're going to find out about me and the baby sooner or later. For my money, it's better sooner."

  He was right. Of course he was right, but still... Valerie mentally grimaced. There was no 'but still.' He was right. People were going to find out, and sooner was better than later. "Okay," she said out loud. "Meet me at my office. But we're not saying anything about the baby or being married. Not yet."

  Roy's lashes lowered infinitesimally. Valerie wished she knew what that meant. Was he surprised by her capitulation? Could she have decided otherwise? "Okay," he said. "It's a deal.

  Valerie met his bland gaze and wished like heck she didn't feel as if she'd just been out-played.

  ~~~

  Oh, sure, Roy bought Valerie four bags' worth of groceries, and he put them all away for her, too. After that, he replaced the worn-out washer in the powder room, which turned out to be a trickier job than he'd anticipated, involving some sweat and a few inventive cuss words.

  But these jobs were small potatoes. The big thing would be meeting her friends and co-workers.

  When he'd woken up this morning he'd heard his brain talking instead of other parts of his anatomy. Yes, he wanted in to Valerie's bed, but some other matters had to come first. He needed to dig a foundation for the place he wanted in her life.

  So he'd called Kenny to explain his plans for the day and to arrange a place to meet later. But Kenny had told Roy not to worry; he could hop a Greyhound back to Vegas so Roy could stay in Palmwood as long as he liked.

  Roy didn't want to stay long, though, just long enough to accomplish his most important errand on this trend-setting visit to his wife's world: establishing himself as the man in her life.

  It was his most vital errand, and the most nerve-wracking. As Roy walked under a watery spring sun to the double glass doors of Valley Pediatric that afternoon, he couldn't remember when he'd ever cared about making a good impression. When it came to poker, the worse an impression one made, the better. When it came to women, well, they usually approached Roy and not the other way around, particularly since his name and probable net worth had started showing up in books about poker.

  "What's not to like?" he muttered to himself, pausing to take a deep breath before hauling open the thick glass door of the building. He was decently groomed and well mannered. He made a good living — an awfully good living. He planned on treating Valerie like a queen, once he made her understand she was his wife in dee
d as well as fact. There was nothing to criticize.

  Nothing, that is, but the ever-present, underlying sense of inferiority that was his legacy from a harsh and judgmental father.

  Roy sighed and strode into the building.

  He was immediately enveloped in an atmosphere galaxies removed from the hedonistic aura of the casinos. The cold travertine floor, the unadorned walls, and the no-nonsense alphabetized directory all pointed to a place of deep seriousness.

  Dr. This, Dr. That, a heart clinic, and a Center for Metabolic Research all vied for space on the directory with Valley Pediatric.

  What I do is important, too, Roy assured himself, though he couldn't think of how as he walked down the hall toward the ground floor clinic. It occurred to him that Valerie probably wasn't going to want to give up her job once the baby was born. Becoming a doctor had taken too long and doing the job was too important for her to walk away. They'd talked about her medical career once, on the Paris Hotel pool deck.

  But her remaining a doctor would be okay, Roy decided, as he strode into the colorful waiting room. There were swing shift schedules and nannies. Hell, he could stay home with the baby, for that matter.

  With that life decision taken care of, Roy looked around the room. Kids of various ages lounged on plastic sofas, glued themselves to the TV in one corner, or simply huddled sadly with haggard parents.

  Roy gazed at one particularly bedraggled child, way too old to be sucking her thumb, and realized this was a glimpse into his future. One day he could be sitting here with some unhappy, sick kid. He tilted his head, considering that. Kinda scary but...hey, his wife was a pediatrician.

  The thought made him grin. Now was that convenient, or what? Yes, it would definitely be okay if Valerie wanted to keep her job.

  But he was getting ahead of himself. First he needed to make sure Valerie understood she really was his wife. Roy cleared his throat and toned down his smile as he walked up to the reception counter.

  A gangly young man sat behind the counter while behind him, amid a library of patient charts, stood the model-tall African-American woman Kenny had gone running after the day before, probably Valerie's friend, Cherise.