Foolish Expectations

by Alison Bliss

  Maybe they both just needed some time to come to terms with it. Talking about it now while their emotions were running high and ricocheting all over the place wouldn’t benefit anyone. There would be plenty of time to figure things out once the shock wore off.

  But as she slid into the truck’s cab, heated to a suffocating degree by the midday sun, she couldn’t help but notice the chill in the air emanating from her husband. His expression held no emotion, no feeling. Just emptiness.

  Had all of this been for nothing?

  No. She didn’t believe that. Not after she’d allowed herself to fall in love—

  The thought struck her with such force, she gripped the edge of the seat to keep her body from pitching forward. She loved him? Oh God! She did! She’d gone and done the one thing she’d set out to avoid from the beginning.

  I fell in love with my husband.

  Head lowered, Nash gripped the steering wheel with both hands until his knuckles turned white. “I’m sorry,” he said in a hushed tone. “I didn’t mean to take it out on you. I don’t know how to express what I’m feeling right now. I was just getting used to the idea of being a…” His words cut off and he shook his head, as if he were still in denial.

  Bailey’s heart broke for him.

  She knew how much he’d wanted the baby from the beginning and had no doubt he would have been an amazing dad. Nash had always been the steadfast and strong one, so seeing him like this gnawed at her very soul.

  She didn’t want to push him. When he was ready and able to talk about it, he would. Until then, the only thing she could do was deal with her own feelings of loss in private to keep from adding to his agony and wait for him to open up. Then she’d be there for him. If he needed her to be the resilient one right now, then that was exactly what she’d be…for him.

  Because she loved him.

  Also because she refused to believe that the one thing that brought them together would be the one thing that would tear them apart. She couldn’t lose him now. Not when she’d already invested her heart. They would get through this and come out stronger for it. They had to.

  And she would make damn sure of it.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Without turning on any lights, Nash eased the bedroom door open and entered the room. Once his eyes adjusted to the dark, he quietly kicked off his boots, setting them down lightly to keep from disturbing Bailey, then stripped out of his shirt and tie.

  She sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes. “Nash, is that you?”

  “Yeah, it’s me.” He peeled off his slacks, which left him standing there in only his boxer-briefs. “Go back to sleep.”

  “Where have you been?”

  Damn it. Here we go again. “I worked late,” he said, trying to keep his annoyance in check. “I told you I wasn’t going to be home for dinner.”

  “Yes, but it’s almost midnight. I was worried.”

  He cringed, guilt eating at his conscience with a sharp fork. “Sorry. I should’ve called. I just had…things to take care of at the office.”

  Her silence reeked of confusion and irritation, but he didn’t want to tell her he’d been meeting with the medical malpractice attorney in charge of handling the three—soon to be four—malpractice suits for the moronic doctor who’d given Bailey false test results.

  It’d been two weeks since Dr. Stevenson had given them the news that Bailey wasn’t pregnant, and he hadn’t seen her cry once since leaving the hospital. It was like she was in denial or something. The moment they’d arrived home, she’d resumed her life, as if nothing had happened.

  He’d expected her to have a mental breakdown. Especially after uprooting her entire life to marry a complete stranger, all so they could raise a child together…a child who didn’t even exist. But she hadn’t.

  Instead, she cooked, cleaned the house, painted her toenails, watched that stupid soap opera he’d turned her onto, and had even taken up a fondness for bubble baths. He just didn’t get it. Why was she acting so strange?

  Hell, maybe she was still in shock. Lord knows, it had taken him a few hours to get his head screwed back on straight after hearing there was no baby. But by the time he’d worked through his own feelings, Bailey had planted a stoic expression on her face and asked him what he wanted for dinner, as if they hadn’t just been given the worst news possible.

  After three days of the same behavior, Nash finally consulted a psychologist who agreed Bailey’s actions were consistent with someone who refused to accept the loss they’d suffered. Then she’d issued Nash a warning. The shrink had compared Bailey’s actions to that of sleepwalking and said forcing his wife to come to terms with her grief before she was ready might do her more harm than good.

  So instead, Nash set out to do the only thing he could. Take the bastard doctor who’d misdiagnosed Bailey to court and get his medical license stripped from his ass permanently. Only he couldn’t mention it to Bailey. At least not yet.

  Once she accepted she wasn’t pregnant and worked through the fog of mourning that would accompany such a realization, only then would he show her the solid case he was building against the asshole doctor. Until then, he’d have to keep quiet.

  “Nash, are we…okay?” Her voice crumbled.

  “Hey,” Nash said, sliding into the bed next to her. He cupped the back of her neck and stared straight into her moonlit eyes. “We’re fine. It’s just that I…”

  Damn it. He couldn’t tell her. Not fucking yet.

  But the look on her face gutted him. He had to do something to erase the worry from her eyes and calm her fears. “Come here.” He pulled her into his lap, wrapped his arms around her, and buried his face into her coconut-scented hair. “Everything is fine. I swear.”

  She held herself rigid in his arms, as if she could sense he was lying to her. Then she pulled back and frowned, burning him with dark eyes that begged him to tell her the truth. “Nash, please…”

  I’m sorry, baby. I can’t.

  So he did the only thing he could do. He kissed her.

  He only meant to comfort her—possibly even distract her a little—but the moment he fastened his mouth over hers, a familiar longing moved through him. It was like coming home again. God, he missed touching her like this.

  Clad in only panties and a tight halter top, her plump lips parted timidly and his tongue swept inside to tangle with hers. She pressed her soft body into his and shivered, her nipples puckering against his chest.

  Feeling the fervor of her response, Nash’s cock hardened beneath her, surging upward, prodding at the barrier of her clothing. Had she been naked, his dick would have slipped into her with ease. Fuck.

  Was it too soon? Would she think about the baby? The last he wanted to do was upset her or force the realization on her. Maybe he should stop before things went too far.

  He broke the kiss and gently set her away from him. Restraint in the bedroom was never something he’d had much of when it came to her, but he would rather gouge his eyes out with a hot poker than do anything that might hinder her healing process.

  But Bailey didn’t seem at all pleased with the maneuver. The corners of her mouth drooped and wary eyes flickered over him, as if she took the rejection personally.

  Without a word, she reached out and pulled down the front of his boxer-briefs, freeing his rock-hard dick. “Since this obviously isn’t the problem, why don’t you tell me what is? Why do you keep pushing me away?”

  Sonofabitch. That wasn’t what he was doing. He wanted to tell her he was trying to help her, that he was doing what was best for her. But damn it, he couldn’t. “I’m tired, okay? Let’s just go to bed—”

  Without warning, she fisted his dick.

  Oh God. Nash bit the inside of his cheek. “Bailey…”

  Instead of answering him, she dropped her firm lips over his hot flesh, sucking vigorously. Fuck. He closed his eyes, reveling in the sensation, but didn’t dare move. His control was already slipping and any motion on his part would on
ly encourage him to do what he truly wanted, which was to yank those black panties down her legs and plunder her with various parts of his anatomy.

  He resisted the desire to tangle his fingers in her silky hair, fought the urge to thrust upward into her velvety mouth, denied the impulse to flip her over and shove his dick where he wanted it most. But when she dragged her lips to the base of his shaft, allowing the head of his cock to rest snugly against the warm, fleshy part of her throat, and then swallowed around it, he knew he was screwed.

  All control flew out the window.

  Grasping her by the arms, Nash hauled Bailey up his body until she straddled his waist, and then gripped her hips roughly, grinding her against his aching length. He jerked the halter top over her head and tossed it aside. Then his insistent hands were on her, covering her breasts, while gently rolling her distended nubs between his fingertips.

  She moaned and arched her back, thrusting her chest out even more, and he couldn’t stop himself. His tongue darted out, bathing her nipples with long strokes of pleasure, while his hand traveled farther south.

  His finger hooked into her panties, pulling them to the side, before positioning himself against her wet heat. She squirmed over him, as if waiting for him to thrust up inside her, but he didn’t. Instead, he dug his fingers into her waist and grunted as he pulled her down hard onto his cock.

  She moaned so deeply, he felt the vibration inside her.

  His hand moved, caressing over her smooth skin until he found her. His fingers scissored around her clit, squeezing with just the right amount of pressure. Her inner muscles molded around him, clamping down on him, and her hips involuntarily flexed. Then she whimpered.

  Leaning forward, he claimed her mouth once again. His erection swelled as she began to grind with purpose, undulating her pelvis slowly in a mind-blowing rhythm that was as torturous as it was pleasurable. He groaned, then grunted in frustration as he strained to hold himself still and let her have control, riding him at her own pace.

  But when she sighed against his lips, the breathy sound ignited a fever in him that couldn’t be restrained. Desire burned through him, fueling him to take her hard and fast. God, he wanted her. Wanted to feel her writhing beneath him as she came around his dick. And he needed to feel it right now.

  Not bothering to pull out, he grasped her ass and rolled them over until she was flat on her back. She squeaked at the unexpected maneuver, but as he spread her legs farther apart and thrust deeper and harder than before, the sound turned into a moan. She arched her body upward, thrusting those pert little breasts into his face.

  Nash closed his lips around one tight rosy nub, rasping his tongue across it as her body quivered in excitement. Her slick channel convulsed around him, warning of her impending climax. The moment she cried out her release, he pushed all the way inside her and held himself there, letting her contractions milk the orgasm from him. Grunting and groaning, he threw his head back and let go.

  Depleted of all strength, he sank on top of her, instinctively angling his body to the side to keep from smothering her. “Jesus. You okay?”

  “Mmm-hmm,” she answered, her hands roaming over his back as she lovingly caressed him. “Aren’t you?”

  Nash blew out a breath. “I’m good.”

  “Good, because I need to tell you something.” She played with his hair, combing her fingers through it. “I got my old job back at the restaurant.”

  Nash shot straight up. “What the hell are you talking about? Since when?”

  She paused, seemingly confused by his outburst. “Since this morning. I called to give them my forwarding address, and Danny offered to put me back on the schedule. I start my first shift tomorrow.”

  “No. Absolutely not.” He crawled out of the bed, adjusted his underwear, flipped on the nearest light, and crossed his arms. There was no fucking way he was going to let her go back to work when she still hadn’t accepted she was no longer pregnant. “You aren’t going back to work.”

  “Why not?”

  He couldn’t tell her why, but he had to give her a good reason. Something believable. Something to keep her from taking the job. “Because I’m your husband and I said so, that’s why.” Oh, fuck. Where the hell did that come from? The moment the words left his lips, he knew it was the wrong thing to say.

  She blinked in shock, then her eyes flared with anger. “Excuse me?” She scoffed under her breath. “If you think that macho bullshit will fly with me, then you married the wrong girl.”

  Damn it. Now he had to tell her the truth to keep her from being pissed at him. But not knowing how she would react weighed heavily on his shoulders. “Bailey, just let me explain—”

  “I don’t want to hear it, Nash. I married you, but you are not my keeper. I’m a grown woman who’ll make her own decisions, and if you don’t like it, then that’s just too damn bad. I wasn’t asking your permission. I was politely informing you of my plans. But I won’t have you telling me what I can or can’t—”

  “Goddamnit, Bailey. Just shut up and listen.”

  She flinched, as if he’d struck her, and the cool gaze she shot his way sent chills down his spine. Before he could even apologize, she rose from the bed and calmly walked out of the bedroom, wearing nothing but her panties and slamming the door behind her.

  Fucking great.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Bailey couldn’t wait for her shift to end.

  Not only were her feet killing her, but she was exhausted and unable to concentrate. No doubt it had to do with the miserable, sleepless nights she’d spent in the guest room after her argument with Nash. It’d been three days since she’d spoken a word to him. That’ll teach him to tell me to shut up.

  But the silent treatment was getting to her, too.

  That first night, he’d tried to apologize, but she’d been so pissed that she’d locked the guest room door and ignored his pleas for her to open it. Even when he gave up and went back into the other room, neither of them had gotten much sleep. She’d heard him pacing in the room next to hers, then listened to the creaking of the bed as he tossed and turned almost as much as she had.

  The next day, they’d avoided one another altogether. She’d started back at her old job, apparently against his wishes, while Nash had worked late into the night once again. Even though she’d left the guest room door unlocked that night, he’d passed right by it and never bothered to knock or open it. Bailey had cried softly for an hour, then spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling.

  But last night had been the worst of all. They’d sat at the kitchen table, eating dinner in complete silence. A couple of times, he’d looked like he wanted to say something, but hadn’t. So she did the same thing she’d been doing every night since the doctor told her she wasn’t pregnant. She went into the bathroom, turned on the water in the bathtub, and had cried until her tears ran dry, letting the sound of the running water drown out her sadness.

  She couldn’t understand how they had been so happy, and then in one instant, their relationship had become stagnant and their marriage had taken a nosedive. But then again, this had never been a real marriage from the beginning. Not really. She had been a vessel, an incubator for his unborn child. At least, that’s what he’d believed when he’d married her. Now that it was no longer the case, maybe this was his way of telling her he wanted out of the marriage.

  The thought alone stressed her out, so she shook it off. She had enough on her plate at the moment and didn’t want to think about it right now, anyway. She’d barely made it through the lunch rush without screwing up an order. All she wanted was to take her last customer’s order and then get the hell out of there. Even if the thought of going home and facing Nash left her feeling anxious.

  She headed for the lone man in the dark gray suit who’d unbuttoned his jacket before sitting at the nearby table the hostess had shown him to. Occasionally businessmen came into Danny’s establishment, but this particular one seemed severely out of place
. As if he had an air of sophistication or entitlement about him and wouldn’t normally be caught dead in a bar and grill.

  “Hi, I’m Bailey,” she said with a smile. “I’ll be your server today. What can I get you to drink?”

  He glanced up at her and one haughty brow rose before he gestured to the chair across from him. “Actually, I’d like a word with you, Ms. Hobbs. Or do you prefer I call you Mrs. Sutherland?”

  Bailey hesitated. Though there was something awfully familiar about him, she’d never given out her last name to a customer before. Not her maiden name, and definitely not her married one. But then he flashed her a superior grin, showing off his perfect pearly whites, and she had no doubt about his identity.

  Only Nash had that same lady killer smile, one he’d obviously inherited from his estranged father. “Does your son know you’re here?”

  That earned her another quick smile. “No, I don’t believe he does.”

  Bailey sat in the seat across from him and folded her hands on the table in front of her. “Do you plan on telling him?”

  “Well, at the moment, my son isn’t speaking to me.”

  “I’m sure he has his reasons.”

  “Ah, yes, I suppose he does.” Aaron Sutherland leaned back in his chair, measuring her with his eyes. “Which is exactly why I came to see you.”

  Her brows lowered over her wary eyes. “What does any of this have to do with me?”

  “Well, it’s quite simple, really. I’d like Nash to take the position I offered him as the head of the legal department for Sutherland Industries, but he’s as stubborn as his mother. He just won’t listen to reason. But as his wife, you could make that happen.”

  “I’m not going to ask Nash to take the job.”

  He chuckled at her. “That’s not what I’m proposing.”

  “Then maybe you should just spell it out for me,” she told him, trying to keep her tone even and failing miserably. “What exactly do you want from me, Mr. Sutherland?”