by Susan Meier
Figuring that it might be a joke or a mistake, he had raced home to talk to Sandy, but she had coldly assured him that it was neither a mistake nor a joke. He had begged her to let him make it up to her—though he hadn’t really understood what he’d done wrong. She had handed him a suitcase, told him she was changing the locks and escorted him to the door.
And he’d stood there. On the front stoop of the brand-new house they were supposed to share. Probably for a half hour. Numb and confused.
After the divorce, he had wished he’d stayed numb. Because when he had learned his wife had kicked him out so she could marry his former partner, he had gotten so angry he’d punched Mac Franklin. That cost him a night in jail.
But even that wasn’t the worst. The worst had been loving somebody who didn’t love him. The worst had been living in the same town when the woman he loved and the partner he admired got engaged, then married. The worst had been looking at her happy pictures in the newspaper and wondering where the hell he had gone wrong. Wondering why she had fallen out of love, and when. Wondering what was wrong with him that she didn’t want him. Going over every second of their two years together that he could remember and coming up empty. Feeling he hadn’t done anything wrong and wishing, almost begging God to let him have done something—even something small—so he would know not to do it again. So he’d have some hope for the future.
But that mythical “thing” he might have done never materialized. He was the victim, the guy who had been wronged, yet he was still the one who had lost everything. And maybe that was the reason the whole deal never really settled itself for him. There was no lesson to be learned except that he wouldn’t ever trust anybody with so much of his life again.
And Isabella—Tia—had already tricked him.
Not intentionally, Drew reminded himself. As she’d told him after they had made love, she’d lost weight and cut her long brown hair immediately after she had graduated from college. It was her first step in trying to get people to see her as more mature, but Drew didn’t know that. Because she didn’t look like the Isabella who had gone off to college, and because she had been introduced as Tia, and because they were so far away from home that he wasn’t thinking about anybody from Calhoun Corners, let alone somebody he hadn’t seen in six years, he had never suspected she was his former neighbor.
The whole situation was a jumble of confusion, but it was a manageable jumble. What wasn’t manageable—or predictable or even something he wanted—was a long-term involvement with a woman. But just because he and Tia were parents, that didn’t necessarily mean they had to be “involved.” If he could endure being married for eight short months, all he had to worry about were the times he dropped off or picked up their child. And as he’d already pointed out to Tia, she lived in Pittsburgh. At best, throughout this marriage they’d see each other on weekends.
Everything would be fine.
He drove down her parents’ tree-lined lane, very much like his own, to the Capriotti horse farm. His house was a white French Colonial, built as a gift to himself for finally succeeding financially the way he had always known he could, but Tia’s parents lived in a redbrick farmhouse that had been updated and renovated several times. Long and regal, it somehow managed to look more like a home than any house Drew had ever seen.
But even as the site comforted him, Drew’s stomach knotted. Ben Capriotti had saved his sanity. After losing his half of the architectural firm to his wife, Drew wasn’t going into architecture again because he was sure that profession was bad luck for him. When he had explained that to Ben, Ben had laughed and agreed to teach Drew everything he needed to know about breeding horses, and getting involved in something so complex hadn’t left Drew time to think about his ex-wife or his ex-partner. Ben had kept his promise and helped Drew every step along the way, and Drew had repaid him by getting his only daughter pregnant.
If he could take one thing back in his life, it would be making love to Tia that night in May. But since he couldn’t, he would at least do the right thing.
He shoved open his truck door and joined Tia on the front porch. Apparently over her anger with him, or maybe because she knew they needed to present a unified front to her parents, she quietly said, “Ready?”
Without hesitation or thought, he took her hand and caught her gaze. Bad move. The combination of those pretty blue eyes and the smoothness of her skin shot arousal through him. But Tia didn’t seem to have the same problem. She didn’t gasp or shiver. Her eyes didn’t darken with desire or even simple awareness. Instead, her expression grew puzzled.
Thanks. That was great for the ego.
He sighed and raised their joined hands. “If we’re going to get away with this lie, there are a couple of things we’ll have to do.”
He tried to ignore the electricity sizzling between their clasped hands, but he couldn’t. Though it had been more than a month since they’d been together, the heat they had generated that night was alive and well and giving him the kinds of thoughts that could get a man arrested in some states, reminding him of something he’d forgotten to even consider. How the hell did he expect to be married to this woman without sleeping with her?
Through sheer force of will. Tia was the only daughter of his mentor, which meant Drew had only one real concern. Making sure he didn’t push Ben Capriotti over the edge of his stress limit. To do that Drew only had to pretend to like Tia. He did not actually have to like her. When it came to common sense and sheer force of will, Drew knew he was the best. There would be no problem with his self-control.
“Holding hands is the easiest way to immediately clue them in that we’re more than friends.”
When Tia’s tongue came out to moisten her lips and she gazed into his eyes for a few seconds too long, Drew almost groaned. Not because the sexy gesture reminded him of just how difficult ignoring her was going to be, but because the lip-moistening demonstrated that she wasn’t nearly as unaffected as he had thought.
Well, whatever. He hadn’t met a woman he couldn’t cause to dislike him. Even Tia had kicked him out of her house the night they’d made love. In a few weeks he could have her absolutely hating him. And he would. Right after they convinced her parents they were crazy in love and getting married.
“Don’t take anything I say in here personally,” he said, then turned and opened the front door, leading her into her parents’ house.
When they entered the foyer, Tia called, “Mom? Dad?”
“In the den, honey,” her mother answered. “Come on back.”
“Okay,” Tia said casually, but Drew’s stomach plummeted. He considered giving himself a minute to calm down, but knew things weren’t going to get any better with the passage of time, so they might as well get this over with.
“Let’s go.”
With a slight tug on Tia’s hand, he led her into her father’s den. Her parents were seated together on the old tan leather sofa, reviewing the records for the farm.
As they entered the den, her mother glanced up. Drew knew Tia had gotten her size and shape from her mother, an average-height brunette with pretty green eyes. But her dark brown hair and blue eyes came from her dad.
“Drew?” Elizabeth Capriotti’s gaze skittered over to Tia, then unerringly honed in on their joined hands. “Tia?”
“Hi, Mom,” Tia said, then—probably because she was as nervous as he was—she unexpectedly blurted, “Drew and I are getting married.”
Her dad put down the computer printout he was holding. Looking totally baffled, he rose. “What did you say?”
“We’re getting married,” Drew said, squeezing Tia’s hand and hoping she got the message to let him handle this. “Tia wasn’t supposed to just drop that bomb on you like that.”
Her dad took two steps toward them. “How exactly would you suggest my daughter…my only daughter…my baby daughter…tell me that she’s about to marry a man who is ten…no, twelve…years older than she is?”
“I know this looks ba
d,” Tia began, but Drew lightly squeezed her hand again, reminding her to let him be the one to speak. Their whole purpose in getting married was to downplay the problem, and Drew was an expert at that.
“Ben, the news Tia and I have gets worse before it gets better. Since she started the ball rolling by blurting out that we’re getting married, I’m going to put all our cards on the table and tell you she’s pregnant.”
Tia’s dad gasped, stumbled then clutched his chest. Tia cried, “Dad!” snatched her hand back from Drew and rushed to her father.
“Ben!” Elizabeth shouted, jumping from her seat and running to the big mahogany desk to grab her husband’s pills.
But Ben waved Tia away as he turned to call his wife back. “Don’t, Elizabeth. I’m fine. But you two really are getting married,” he said, turning back to Drew and Tia. “And this pregnancy stays a secret until after the election. I’m contending with enough right now without adding the gossip of your shenanigans to the mix. Understood?”
Drew said, “Understood,” as Tia simultaneously said, “I understand.”
Ben shook his head. “No, you don’t understand, Tia. You live in Pittsburgh. You haven’t been reading the paper, seeing how Mark Fegan’s keeping conversation focused on my damn heart condition so Auggie Malloy doesn’t have to deal with real issues—” He waved his hand. “Hell. Forget it. The campaign’s my problem. I’ll handle it.” He pointed a stern finger at Tia and Drew. “But you two get married, and I mean right now.”
With that he returned to the sofa, sat and began going through the bills on the coffee table, dismissing Tia and Drew. Elizabeth hurriedly motioned for Tia and Drew to follow her out of the room.
As she closed the den door she said, “We didn’t even know you were dating.”
“We didn’t date long,” Drew said, silently congratulating himself for his cleverness. He hadn’t lied, but he also hadn’t admitted that they’d had a one-night stand.
“And we are happy,” Tia said.
Knowing that wasn’t at all true, Drew could only guess Tia had said that because it was the one thing her mother wouldn’t argue about. Elizabeth might be upset about her daughter marrying someone older, but she wouldn’t argue with her little girl’s happiness. He gave Tia points for recognizing that and decided that maybe, between the two of them, this wouldn’t be too godawful difficult to pull off, after all.
“Do you think Daddy’s okay?” Tia asked softly.
Elizabeth nodded. “He’s fine. Parents deal with unexpected babies and weddings every day of the week.” She blew her breath out on a long sigh. “It’s the election that’s making him nuts.”
“We’re sorry that this comes at such a bad time,” Tia said.
“When do you plan to get married?”
Drew said, “I thought we’d just get a license and go see a judge…”
Elizabeth’s eyes rounded with sorrow. “No wedding?”
“Sorry, Elizabeth,” Drew said, “but we’re a little pressed for time. As Ben said, we won’t announce that Tia’s pregnant for a few months, but the quicker we get married, the better.”
“I could put something together in two weeks,” Elizabeth insisted. “That would be the first of July. You could get married in the gazebo in the backyard and we could have a small reception under a tent.” She gazed at Drew imploringly. “It wouldn’t be any trouble.”
“Elizabeth—” Drew began.
But Tia interrupted him. “I think that’s a great idea, Mom. A wedding will be something fun for all of us. Maybe give Dad a break from the election for a day. As long as we keep it to a little wedding in the backyard.”
“That’s perfect,” Elizabeth said. “Nothing fancy. Just something small.”
Tia turned to Drew. “Unless you want to help Mom and me make wedding plans, you can go now.”
It took a second before Drew understood she was telling him his work here was done. When he got it, everything inside him melted with relief and he said, “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Elizabeth echoed. “You’re leaving?”
“I’m not much on girlie stuff, Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth looked at Tia. “But you’re staying?”
“To help you plan—”
“All night?” Elizabeth said, but as she spoke her puzzled expression changed to a shrewd-mother smile. “Tia? What’s going on here?”
Chapter Two
“Nothing’s going on!” Drew said, grabbing Tia by the shoulders and turning her in the direction of the foyer. Tia struggled against his hold, but he gripped her tighter.
“Tia forgot how late it was when she volunteered to help plan tonight. You go back to the den and check on Ben. You can call us tomorrow morning and we’ll come over and talk about wedding plans then. Or Tia can come over by herself…whatever you and Ben want.”
With that, Drew pushed Tia up the hall and she gave up fighting him because it wasn’t good for her mother to see them argue or question each other.
But when they were on the front porch, out of range of both of her parents, she glared at him. “Drew—”
“Shhh,” he said, pulling her down the steps and all but dragging her to her car. “If we don’t make too much of a ruckus, maybe nobody will notice we brought two vehicles.”
He tucked her inside her little red sports car, then raced over to his truck. Tia followed him back to his house. Not at all happy with his high-handedness, she parked her car beside his in front of the two-car garage, walked into the foyer and tossed her car keys onto the curio cabinet.
“If you’d given me two minutes I could have talked my mother into planning tonight and I wouldn’t have had to come back here!”
“That was exactly the problem,” Drew said as he ambled off to the left into his living room. “It was obvious that you were trying to get rid of me when we’re supposed to be madly in love and you’re supposed to want to spend the night with me.”
Still in the foyer, Tia froze by the stairway. She barely had time to register a grateful reaction for his saving their charade. The words spend the night with me caused her chest to tighten and her pulse to scramble. She sure as heck hoped he didn’t think they should be sharing the same bed, but even as the idea entered her brain she knew that’s exactly what he thought. She was already pregnant. He knew she found him attractive. They had been magnificent together sexually. Plus, they were getting married. They would be each other’s opposite-sex companion for the next eight months. She couldn’t envision him going without sex for eight months.
She leaned against the newel post to steady herself. This situation just kept getting worse.
Well, she’d already faced two awkward conversations this evening. Time for number three.
Straightening her shoulders, she headed for his living room.
Seated on a white brocade sofa, with his arms stretched across its back and his boots on the coffee table, Drew looked disreputable and self-assured and so handsome that Tia had a sudden case of second thoughts. They might not be right for each other as a real husband and wife, but would sleeping together for the next eight months really be that bad?
“Your mother is suspicious,” Drew said, “because our story is weak. Not only do we have to come up with a more detailed story than what we told your parents, but we should also have a prenup.”
Tia’s eyes widened and her mouth fell open slightly. “You don’t have to protect your money from me!”
“How do you know I wasn’t trying to protect your money from me?”
Taken aback by that possibility, she thought about it, then remembered she didn’t have any money to protect. She’d only been working two years. Not enough time to accumulate a nest egg. Any money she had saved had gone into the down payment for her house.
“I don’t have any money.”
“Okay, then we’re back to protecting mine. But for a few seconds there, when you thought you might have money, you have to admit you wanted a prenup, too.”
This was why she wouldn’t sleep with him. He was nothing like the guy of her childhood fantasies. He wasn’t a sweet, considerate, smitten Prince Charming. He was a grouch who perpetually watched out for himself. “You’re insane.”
“Frankly, my dear, I don’t care what you think of me.” He pushed himself off the sofa and poured two fingers of Scotch. “Can I get you something? Soda? Iced tea? Glass of milk?”
“I’m fine,” she said, but she wasn’t. This morning she had been a happy-go-lucky employee at an advertising firm. She had a job secure enough that she was ready, even happy, to become a mom. In her generosity of spirit and fairness of heart, she’d decided to tell her baby’s father he was about to be a dad. She’d agreed to marry him to protect her father from the potential stress that telling the real story might generate. Now, her father was okay, but she was stuck spending too much time with a man who always looked on the dark side of things. She wished she had realized Drew wasn’t the nice guy she had created in her fantasies before she’d made love with him, but she’d been so caught up in her childhood crush that she’d let herself believe he was the man in her dreams.
He wasn’t. She didn’t know exactly who he was, but he most certainly wasn’t Prince Charming.
“I’m not sleeping with you.”
He peered at her over his Scotch glass. His gaze went from her short cap of dark hair, along her face, down her shoulders, pausing at her breasts, and then tumbled to her toes. For a few seconds he appeared to be considering his answer. Finally, he smiled and said, “I don’t remember asking.”
Embarrassment shot through her, but she ignored it. She didn’t believe for one second that he didn’t want to sleep with her. Still, she wasn’t arguing with good fortune.
“Let’s just say that was another one of those things we had to get out of the way.”
“Good.”
“Good.”
He strolled back to the white sofa and settled again on the plump cushion. “Let’s get back to the prenup.”