by Mia Carson
“My house has a spare bedroom,” she said. “It’s not much, but that house… It’s the first place that’s just mine and, I’m comfortable there.”
He nodded, but she wasn’t sure he fully understood what she was asking.
“I’m not exactly sure how well I’ll handle moving somewhere I haven’t been before, you know? I’m not… It’s my comfort zone,” she explained when she couldn’t think of any other way to describe it that made sense. “And I need to know that you understand I’m willing to completely change my life for this to work.”
He set his glass down and stood, reaching for her hand. Evelyn wasn’t sure what he was doing, but she didn’t pull away as he helped her to her feet. “If that’s what you need me to do, then that’s what I’ll do,” he said simply.
She watched his eyes darken and knew part of him wasn’t sure about what he was agreeing to at all. He was frustrated with her for throwing him off balance, but she liked it. Liked knowing she could throw him for a loop as much as he did her every time he touched her or stared at her too long.
“Perfect. Oh, and you need to bring a bed,” she said, remembering she didn’t have one in the spare room. “Sorry, new place. Lacking some furniture.”
“Not a problem. I guess I’ll move in tomorrow, then?”
Saturday. She didn’t work at the diner until Sunday, so tomorrow was her one full day off. “I’ll give you my address and see you in the morning.”
“I’ll walk you out,” he offered, his voice quiet with what she could only describe as curious excitement.
Evelyn picked up her shoes and slipped them on, stumbling a bit as she tried to balance on one foot. He caught her in his arms, holding her for a long moment, his body warm against hers, and without thinking, she leaned into him.
Evelyn glanced up, her breathing ragged, and his arms shifted until they wrapped completely around her, holding her close. The smell of pine reached her nose, and she closed her eyes, letting it surround her as her heart raced. She would’ve stayed like that until a familiar itching started at her belly button, and she quickly pulled back.
“Sorry,” she said as he released her. She hated that she saw reluctance and confusion on his face—exactly what she felt. “I’ll… uh, I’ll let myself out.” She ignored his protest, rushed to the front door, grabbed her coat and purse, and hurried out the door to her car.
She started it, smacking her hands on the steering wheel before resting her forehead on it. What the hell had she been thinking? This deal would not work out if she let herself lose her sanity around him. Just because he was the first attractive man to pay her the right sort of attention did not mean she should let him turn her to mush.
“Pull it together, woman,” she muttered to herself. “He’s going to be living with you.”
Once the car was started and she was ready to back out of the drive, she noticed him standing in the front door, watching her with his silver-eyed gaze, his arms crossed over his chest and a damn smirk playing across his face.
“Oh, hell,” she whispered. She drove home, hoping the hives would go away before tomorrow morning.
Chapter 10
That night, Viktor packed some clothes, his emotions ranging from frustration at this woman shutting down his plans for a vacation, to respect for her admitting exactly why she didn’t want to go. He couldn’t blame her, really. There was always a chance this deal of theirs would not actually happen, no matter how much he wanted it to.
He hoped sleep would come quickly when he crawled into bed, but he lay awake, staring at the ceiling, remembering her body against his and how soft her hair was. Shifting to get comfortable, he grunted and closed his eyes, but new images appeared in his mind. Watching her sip her wine, jealous of the glass touching her lips like he wanted to. The firelight hitting her eyes. Each new vision was too much, and for most of the night, he glared at the ceiling, hands fisted in the sheets, daydreaming about a woman he wanted to possess.
When he woke the next morning, he had a hard-on that wouldn’t go away. He pictured doing more things with Evelyn than he had with any woman since Mary. And he was going to spend at least a week living under the same roof with her. He went into the bathroom and rubbed his hands over his exhausted face, trying to wake up and get it together. He could control himself. They were two grown adults, and this was a business contract, nothing more.
He threw his duffel in the back of the truck and double-checked the address before he locked his front door and drove to Evelyn’s. When he parked, she was sitting on the front porch waving at him. The house was smaller than he’d expected, and he frowned. She lived there, in that tiny little house, and he lived in a huge mansion. All he wanted to do was drag her into his truck and make her move in with him—now—to get her out of there. But he parked and got out.
“Morning,” she called to him.
He grabbed his bag and walked up to her. “Morning. Bit cold to be outside.”
“Not so bad,” she said with a shrug, and as she raised her hand to tuck her long hair behind her ear, he noticed a few of the nails were broken. “Come on, I’ll show you around the place.”
He stepped in after her, but when he glanced up, he frowned. “Evelyn, were you robbed recently?”
“No, not exactly,” she said, her face flushed crimson. He wanted to kick himself for being so blunt. “I haven’t had a chance to get furniture yet. Told you that. You have a bed coming, right?”
He nodded slowly, setting his bag down, and looked around the living and dining room area that opened into a small galley kitchen. A kitchen table with two chairs occupied one side of the room and one end-table by the front door, and a TV set on milk crates sat on the other.
“This is the main living area,” she said quietly. “Down the hall is the bathroom and to the left is my room. To the right will be yours.”
“Easy enough,” he said, scratching his beard as he pulled off his wool hat.
She glanced at her cell and cursed. “Listen, I hate to do this to you on the first day, but I got called into the office for some last minute paperwork and can’t pass up the extra hours. I’ve left you a spare key on the counter.”
“Of course,” he said with a reassuring smile. “Go do what you normally would. I’ll keep myself busy.”
She hesitated at the door, her purse in hand. “Are you sure? I know we’re supposed to be getting to know each other, but…” She trailed off, tugging at a strand of her long hair he itched to run his fingers through again.
“No, don’t let me throw you off your normal routine,” he insisted. “Go, really. I’ll be fine.”
Evelyn puffed out her cheeks, turned on her heel, and left. Viktor peeked out the window, waiting until she’d driven away before he glanced around her empty home and crossed his arms over his chest. He explored the house, his heavy steps echoing on the old hardwood floors as he glanced at her sparse decorations. Bear figurines filled one tiny shelf, all polar bears, and he grinned as he ran his fingers over the glass. Figured she would be drawn to a fierce beast such as a bear.
Making his decision, he pulled out his cell and called his only other real friend besides Tucker—Joseph. “Hey, man,” he said when his friend answered. “I need a favor.”
***
Joseph grunted as he lowered his end of the love-seat and Viktor set down the other end. “Damn, man, is this the last piece? How many did you buy for this woman?”
“Enough,” Viktor said, wiping his arm across the sweat on his forehead. He glanced around the small house, grinning like a kid. “I think she’ll be pleasantly surprised.”
“You want to tell me why you felt the need to furnish this woman’s house for her?”
Viktor had been debating all morning and afternoon whether or not he should tell Joseph the truth about his business with her. The only other person who knew was Tucker, but Viktor trusted him. Joseph was his friend, but he was more the high society man Viktor would never be and tended to look down on the w
ay Viktor lived his life on the shabbier end of the spectrum.
Looking around the house, the new, solid, dark wood kitchen table set, the love-seat and over-sized chair with ottoman—a warm brown that reminded him of her eyes—with a wooden TV stand to match. For the bedrooms, he’d bought two new beds with dark wooden headboards and a nightstand each, along with a chest that fit perfectly in her tiny bedroom. He had even added a few decorative touches—some polar bear throw pillows and a fluffy blanket.
Now, it felt like a home, and he beamed, more excited than he had been in a long time to see her face when she came home.
“Yeah, I guess I have some things to tell you. Want a beer?”
They’d gone to the store before the furniture was delivered, and he broke out two beers and sat at the kitchen table with his friend.
“So spill. Who is this girl?”
Viktor tilted his beer bottle this way and that before he said quietly, “She’s going to be the mother of my child.”
Joseph spit out his mouthful of beer, and Viktor cursed. “I’m sorry, your what? You got someone pregnant?”
“No,” he muttered, getting up to grab a towel. “No, it’s not like that.”
As he wiped up his friend’s mess, he filled him in on what he’d been doing for the last few months, trying to find a woman willing to enter into the contract with him. He told him about Bridget and the accident and how Evelyn had found him. Joseph was quiet throughout the entire explanation, and Viktor waited with bated breath for his friend to say something—anything, at this point.
Joseph sucked in a breath and yelled, “Are you out of your mind? What the hell are you thinking? Do you realize what type of liability you’re setting yourself up for if this goes wrong?”
“That’s why there’s a contract,” Viktor said stiffly. “I’ve covered my bases, Joe.”
“Right, of course you have. And what do your parents think of this little arrangement?”
“They don’t know,” he replied quietly, regretting opening his mouth.
Joe nodded slowly. “They don’t know. That’s great, just great. What do you think it’ll do to your parents when they figure out your relationship is fake? And that their grandchild was put inside of this woman through a medical procedure? My God, Vik, are you this desperate?”
“Yes,” he snapped, jumping to his feet. “I’m worried that I’m running out of time. I’m thirty, Joe, and I’m not married and I have no kids. Mary screwed up any chance I thought I had at love, but a kid, that I can still do.”
“Through a woman you just met,” Joe reminded him quietly. “Vik, I’m your friend, and I’m telling you I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“I’m out of options,” Viktor muttered, sitting back down hard and chugging his beer. “What am I supposed to do?”
“Find a girl the old-fashioned way and marry her,” Joe said. “Jesus, Vik. You’re going to give up, just like that?”
“I tried that route. Didn’t turn out too well, and I’m not risking it again. I won’t.”
Joe sipped on his beer, tapping his toe on the floor. “Just be careful, man. This might not end up the way you want it to. That’s all I’m saying.”
“I know, but I don’t know what else to do,” he admitted. If he wanted to be really honest, he’d tell his friend this woman did stir something inside of him. Needs he hadn’t felt so strongly in a long time. Urges to hold her, touch her… hell, he'd wanted to kiss her last night when she’d stumbled into his arms. Holding Evelyn felt right, more right than anything else had in years.
A car door closed outside, and Viktor paused with his beer halfway to his mouth. His heart thudding like a rabbit in his chest, he stood and told Joe to behave himself. The key turned in the front door a second later, and Evelyn called out to him.
“Hey, Viktor, I’m… back—what the hell?” she muttered, staring open-mouthed.
“Evelyn,” he said, shoving his hands nervously into his pockets, “I bought you a house warming present.”
She dropped her purse where the old rickety end-table used to be which had been replaced by a tall coat rack with a shelf. She took another few steps into the house, looked at him, and frowned. “No.”
Viktor’s brow furrowed. “No? What do you mean, no?”
Completely ignoring him, she glanced at Joe. “Who’s he?”
“Joseph Peters,” he said as he got to his feet and held out his hand. With a narrowed gaze, Evelyn took it. “Pleasure to meet you, Evelyn. I was just helping Viktor move everything in for you to… ah, fix up your lovely little home.”
She glared and yanked her hand back angrily. “Okay, then maybe you can help him move everything back out,” she muttered and stormed down the hall. Viktor knew she reached her bedroom when her loud curse echoed through the small house. “No! You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Joseph smirked and clapped his friend on the back. “On that note, I think I’ll leave.”
“What the hell did you do?” Evelyn called out again, darting from her room to the spare room. “Oh, come on!”
Viktor sighed, annoyance rising as Joseph quickly slipped out the front door. He stomped down the hall, leaning in the doorway of what was going to be his room. “What’s the matter, Evie?”
She whipped around and poked him hard in the chest. “What’s the matter? You can’t just go around buying furniture for people!”
“If you don’t like it, we can go shopping together and change whatever you don’t like,” he told her, rubbing the spot on his chest. Her gaze burned a hole through him.
“I didn’t say I didn’t like it,” she snapped. “I said you can’t buy me furniture.”
“Obviously, I can because I just did,” he grunted and folded his arms over his chest.
She held her face in her hands, muttering curses and shaking her head until her long hair fell over her shoulders and the strong scent of cinnamon hit his nose. “You don’t understand. You’ll never understand. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” she whispered and pushed past him—or tried to, but he caught her arm. “Let me go, Viktor.”
“Not until you tell me what the hell I did wrong,” he said and turned her to face him.
She tried to pull her arm free again, which he allowed but blocked her from running away from him. “Fine, you want to know what you did?!” she yelled. “You did something in a freaking afternoon that would have taken me years to do! You just up and did it! Do you have any idea what that does to me?”
His face scrunched and hands clenched at his sides. “I just wanted to help you.”
“Well, you didn’t, not in the way you think. If this doesn’t work, if it goes wrong… I don’t want to get used to this. I can’t… I can’t let myself think all my problems are going to disappear,” she said, hanging her head as her cheeks flamed.
He stilled as her words sank in. If she screwed it up. Why was she so worried? He tilted her chin up gently so he could see her face. “Evelyn, you’re not going to mess anything up. I’m more confident about having this contract with you than I was with Bridget. Besides, even if this doesn’t work the way we think, you really believe I won’t ever talk to you again as a friend?”
Her eyes crinkled as she studied his face. “Really?”
“That’s what we’re working towards, isn’t it? To be friends who happen to be raising a child together,” he said with a shrug. “Nothing more.” Unless you ask for more, because right now, I would give you more in a heartbeat. The thought caught him off-guard, and he let his hand fall away, taking a step back.
If she noticed the sudden change in him, she didn’t say anything, and he held his breath, kicking himself for letting his dormant libido flare to life and slowly take over. He wanted this woman before him, wanted to hold her and run his hands through her hair, to feel the silky strands against his rough skin. He wanted to breathe her in until she was all he smelled throughout the day. He wanted Evelyn more than he wanted to see the sun again, and it terrified
him, standing in the hall of her tiny little house, wondering what the hell was happening to him.
When her lips turned up in a half smile, a chink from the wall he’d built around his heart fell and shattered within him. “Do you buy all your friends furniture?” she asked with a laugh.
“No,” he replied, forcing the word out though his chest squeezed tighter. “But I don’t like all my friends as much as I like you.”
Her smile fell a little, but her eyes glimmered with the light he’d spotted the other day when she’d been laughing as well as last night during their dinner. She cleared her throat, shifting on her feet as she glanced towards the living room. “I do like the polar bear pillows,” she admitted quietly.
“I hoped you would. Saw the figurines on the shelf.”
“I’ve had some of those for years,” she told him. “Picked them up here and there, never wanted to get rid of them.”
She wandered back to the living room, and he let her, following close. Every muscle in his body tensed, craving to hold her, but he stopped himself at the last second from reaching out. She was tearing him up inside, and she didn’t even realize it.
When she plopped down on the couch and pulled a pillow onto her lap, he smiled, picturing her last night at his house, so comfortable in his chair before the fire. She’d looked at home there, but here, he saw the homey feeling in her eyes. Until she had that same look when she was with him at his place, he couldn’t possibly ask her to move out. He might not have fully understood her last night when she said she wasn’t ready to move in with him, but seeing her in her own place, he started to. She never really had a home she belonged in. Except this one. And he’d almost ruined it for her.
“How about I make dinner?” he said. “I ran by the store and got a few things.”
“If you want. I’m starving,” she said and hopped up from the couch. “Oh, and I swung by the clinic on my way home just to get it out of the way. The blood test will come back Monday, but I’m all cleared by the doctor.” She pulled a piece of paper out of her purse and handed it to him. “Your turn.”