Wishing and Hoping

by Susan Meier

  “Let her alone, Mrs. Hernandez.”

  Drew’s voice from the living room doorway caused Tia’s heart to stutter. She didn’t want to believe that she was coming to like seeing him too much, so she convinced herself she was so desperate to be in the company of anybody not trying to get her fired that even he would do.

  But when she turned to smile at him and he caught her gaze, liquid warmth flooded her. His thick dark hair curled around his face, which was tanned from hours in the sun. His wonderful wide shoulders and muscled chest stretched his T-shirt to its limits. He was so darned good-looking and so darned strong that part of Tia wanted to simply sink against him and weep with gratitude that she was finally home.

  Before she could remind herself that this wasn’t really her home, he crossed the foyer to her, wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her to him for a kiss, and Tia melted. The feeling of his lips against hers sent blood coursing through her veins at the same time that it seemed to liquefy her bones. She slid her arms around him, enjoying the kiss, believing he really had missed her and allowing herself the tiniest of concessions that she had missed him, too, until he whispered, “We need to talk.”

  Then she knew that hugging her to him and kissing her was a way to get them close enough that he could tell her they needed some time away from Mrs. Hernandez.

  Disappointment spiraled through her, but she pulled away from him with a sunny smile, not about to let this part of her life get as far out of control as her work life had suddenly become. “I missed you, too.” She looked at Mrs. H. “Both of you.”

  “Well, of course, you missed me” Mrs. Hernandez said, grabbing her arm and leading her toward the kitchen. “You need some food!”

  “Mrs. Hernandez, really, Tia and I would like some alone time.”

  “Get your mind out of your hormones, Mr. Wallace,” Mrs. Hernandez said. “I need to feed this girl.”

  Tia shot him a helpless look as Mrs. Hernandez dragged her to the kitchen, but the truth was she didn’t mind being dragged away from him. She wasn’t in the mood to hear more bad news. She wasn’t in the mood for another problem. She decided to subtly tell Drew to hold off on the need-to-talk discussion until tomorrow. After a night’s rest she was sure she would be able to take on something else.

  He played right into her hands by following her into the kitchen.

  Walking to the round oak table in the breakfast nook, she said, “Actually, Drew, I’m not just hungry. I’m also tired.”

  “See?” Mrs. Hernandez said smugly. “She’s not in the mood for your alone time.”

  “Mrs. Hernandez!” Tia gasped.

  “Yeah, Mrs. Hernandez,” Drew said. “Did you ever stop to think that when I said alone time, I wasn’t referring to sex, but I wanted time to talk to my wife without you listening?”

  “No, I didn’t think that. And do you know why? Because I know you. When you find something you like you’re obsessive.”

  “Whatever,” Drew said, obviously deciding there was no point in arguing with his housekeeper as he took a seat at the table.

  Mrs. Hernandez turned her attention to Tia. “I’ve got spaghetti that I made for Drew tonight,” she said, rattling off supper choices for Tia. “It’s still warm. But I also have leftover meat loaf from yesterday and some roast beef from the day before.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?” Mrs. Hernandez frowned. “Which one did you want?”

  “All of them.”

  “All of them?” Mrs. Hernandez parroted, still confused.

  Tia smiled. “Yeah. All of them.”

  Drew burst out laughing as Mrs. Hernandez hurried away. Getting the plate of spaghetti and warming the meat loaf and roast beef should keep his nosy housekeeper busy for a while.

  He caught Tia’s gaze. “We really do need to talk.”

  “Honestly, Drew, I’m tired.”

  Drew smiled sympathetically, but inside he was rejoicing. Though Tia didn’t know it, she’d just handed him the perfect opportunity to get her to spill her guts without looking obvious. “What has you so tired?”

  “Work. And I’m not in the mood to talk about it and I’m too tired to hear about any other troubles we have.” She cast a pleading look in his direction. “I just want about sixteen hours of sleep. Tomorrow I’ll deal with everything you feel needs attention.”

  He took a breath. So much for thinking she’d spill her guts. But with Mrs. Hernandez returning soon, he decided not to argue.

  His housekeeper eventually bustled back with a plate of spaghetti. “Eat this, first. Lots of carbs. It will give you energy.” She smiled benignly at Tia, then turned to Drew. “You know, Mr. Drew, a gentleman would respect his wife being tired.”

  Drew shook his head. Why couldn’t Mrs. Hernandez’s sister have needed another month or so of care? “I do respect my wife,” he began, but Mrs. Hernandez cut him off.

  “Then you should sleep in the guest room.”

  “The guest room?” Drew blurted, not sure if she’d given him a reprieve or completely ruined his plan. Not sleeping in the same room with this sweet-smelling woman he couldn’t have was like a gift from God, but he needed to get her work story out of her. On top of that, it would look odd for him and Tia to sleep apart for any reason. They were supposed to be madly in love. If she was tired, he was supposed to comfort her. And that, he decided, was his ace in the hole. She was tired. What would a normal guy do with a normal pregnant wife who was tired?

  It was times like this he wished he were normal.

  “Now why would I want to sleep apart from my wife,” he asked, catching Tia’s hand, “when it’s obvious that she needs a little TLC?”

  “I know all about your TLC,” Mrs. Hernandez shot back. “You forget how long I’ve lived here and how many women I’ve seen sneaking down the front steps at dawn.”

  Drew barely stopped himself from cursing under his breath. This woman was going to be the death of him. “Tia knows she doesn’t have to worry about me not respecting the fact that she’s tired. I like her for more than her…Well, you know.”

  Though Mrs. Hernandez tossed him a skeptical look, Drew realized he’d meant that. He did like Tia. And not just for sex. Their relationship might have started with a burst of passion, but in the past few weeks he’d discovered Tia was a good person, obviously a strong-willed person if she was having a serious work problem that she hadn’t shared with anybody, but nonetheless a good person.

  Drew’s feelings must have shown on his face because Tia smiled at him, then at Mrs. Hernandez. “He’s right. I don’t have to worry about him. Really, Mrs. H., I’ll be fine.”

  Mrs. Hernandez harrumphed and walked back to the work area of the kitchen.

  Drew studied Tia for a second, then said, “You do realize that we just blew our big chance not to have to sleep in the same room tonight.”

  Tia shook her head. “Not really. Mrs. Hernandez might be bulldozing for me to sleep alone, but in the morning, after some time to think about it, she’d realize it was odd for me not to want to sleep with you. We’re madly in love, remember? I have to look like I missed you this week.”

  Their gazes met and clung with that sentiment hanging in the air between them. Something stirred in Drew’s heart, but he ruthlessly squelched it. They had a problem to resolve and he had to have his wits about him to get her to trust him so she would confide in him.

  But holding the gaze of her pretty blue eyes, feeling the powerful sexual attraction that arched between them and remembering how open and trusting she’d been the day they’d made love, he suddenly realized that the best way to get her to trust him might be at his fingertips. All he had to do was seduce her. Give her the words of love she had so clearly wanted to hear, and she would be his. She would tell him whatever he wanted to know, and then he could solve the problem.

  But then he’d give her all the wrong ideas, and when they divorced she’d be hurt.

  He couldn’t do it. No matter how much he needed to know
her work problem, he wouldn’t use how she felt about him. There had to be another way.

  It might simply take him a while to think of it.

  “And here’s the meat loaf,” Mrs. Hernandez sang, bringing a second platter to the table.

  “Great,” Tia said, eagerly spearing a slice the second Mrs. Hernandez set down the platter.

  Though Drew normally never told anyone but Ben much about his farm, his horses or the disagreements he had with employees, he needed to do his part to fool Mrs. Hernandez. So, strictly for the sake of the charade, he began telling Tia the details of his own somewhat miserable week, but he unexpectedly recognized that opening up to her might be his alternative to using her feelings for him to get her to trust him.

  So he talked. He told her absolutely everything that had happened that week, going on even after Mrs. Hernandez left the kitchen. Tia didn’t seem to notice that with the housekeeper gone they didn’t need to talk anymore. She listened to every word he said as if she really were his wife, until he noticed she was falling asleep at the table. Again, something twisted in his chest. Again, he ignored it. They couldn’t afford to let feelings get in the way of their mission.

  He grimaced. “Sorry about going on so long.”

  “That’s okay,” she said with a laugh. “That real conversation we just had will probably go a lot further to convince Mrs. H. we’re legit than a hundred passionate kisses.”

  Drew laughed and rose from the table as Tia also rose.

  “If you don’t mind, I’m ready for bed.”

  He wasn’t about to let her get away when they were talking so well. Any minute now he expected to be able to turn the tables and get her talking about her week, then her job, then whatever the hell was going on at that company of hers that was about to get her fired.

  “I have to wake up early tomorrow, so I’ll go with you.”

  She said, “Great,” but there was an amazing lack of conviction in her voice.

  Drew chuckled. “I thought you told Mrs. H. you trusted me.”

  “I do.”

  “Okay, then, loosen up,” he said, directing her to walk before him through the hall and up the stairway. “Your shoulders are so tight I’m afraid they’re going to snap.”

  She smiled weakly, but didn’t really reply. Instead, she climbed the steps and headed down the hall, hesitating at his bedroom door.

  He reached over her shoulder and pushed it open, thinking she might simply feel odd about taking the liberty of walking into his room. But he knew it was more than that when he had to nudge her inside.

  “I’ve got a sleeping bag,” he assured her. “So it’s not like we’ll be sleeping together. We’re just going to be in the same room. That’s all.” Then quickly, before she had a chance to think about what he’d said, he added, “Want the bathroom first?”

  She demurely accepted, and left him alone in the big bedroom.

  Drew walked to his closet where he’d stowed his sleeping bag that afternoon. As he got it out and unrolled it, he heard the sound of the shower and he frowned. He’d thought five minutes in the bathroom wouldn’t be enough for their conversation to lose momentum, but apparently her bedtime ritual was a lot more complicated than his was.

  Of course, she might have a point about needing to at least rinse off before bed. He had showered when he came in for the day, but it was a hot summer.

  He sighed. All right. He would be considerate and shower, too. But he couldn’t afford for her to fall asleep while he was gone, so he grabbed one of the spare master bath towels along with his robe, raced across the hall, showered and brushed his teeth. He also tidied up the bathroom and brought the dirty towel with him.

  When he returned to the bedroom, Tia was already in bed, but she wasn’t settled. She shifted to the right, then the left, then rose up and punched her pillow. “I can’t get comfortable.”

  “You just need to unwind.”

  “Right.”

  “Really. You look about as tense as a person can get.”

  She sighed. “It has been a long week.”

  Deciding this was his opening, he strolled across the room to his sleeping bag. “So, why don’t you tell me what’s going on at work?”

  “Work?”

  “Sure. You keep saying you’re tired and it’s been a long week.” He shrugged. “I figure something must have happened at work.”

  “It’s really not a big deal.”

  Keeping up the appearance of nonchalance so she’d relax and talk, he peered down at his sleeping bag. “Sounds like the perfect thing to talk about, then.”

  She sat up on the bed. “I don’t feel right making you sleep on the floor.”

  He glanced over. Did she think he was so stupid he wouldn’t notice she’d changed the subject? “I don’t feel right that I told you every damned thing that went on in my life this week and you won’t even confide one little work problem.”

  She took a breath.

  He lifted the corner of the sleeping bag and lowered himself inside, absolutely positive that her guilt over making him sleep on the floor would cause her to blurt her story. Instead, she turned off the light.

  Damn it! He heard the swish and crunch of the covers, and stifled a groan. This was another one of those reasons he didn’t get involved with women. He really had told her every single thing—well, except for overhearing that conversation between Mark Fegan and the stranger—that had happened in his week, and she couldn’t even tell him about one simple problem.

  And he was sleeping on the floor for her, for Pete’s sake! Didn’t the woman understand anything about guilt?

  Suddenly, the light popped on again.

  “This bed is huge! We’d never even touch accidentally.”

  Drew rolled his eyes. Great. She’d invite him into bed, but wouldn’t tell him her work troubles.

  “Go to sleep, Tia.”

  She turned off the light. He closed his eyes. Silence filled the room. But the quiet actually made things worse. He was sleeping on the floor. She wouldn’t confide her problem. Hell, he felt like he really was married.

  He moved about a bit, trying to get comfortable, but he wasn’t the slightest bit tired. The thick sleeping bag didn’t do much to soften the hardwood beneath it. Thoughts of a new mayor, somebody who’d overturn or rewrite zoning ordinances that had kept Calhoun Corners a quiet little town for generations danced through his head. He could hear his sheets crackle and crunch with the movement of Tia’s body—her nice soft body against his super-soft satin sheets.

  He sighed. Well, that just officially made his life miserable. He had three choices. Think about how hard his floor was. Worry about how a new mayor would probably change his peaceful town. Think about Tia’s body shifting on his sheets.

  This was going to be one long night.

  “You remember the failed cereal campaign I told you about?”

  Stunned when Tia’s soft voice drifted down to him, Drew shifted to his side, facing the bed, and cautiously said, “Yeah.”

  “Well, it’s not as cut-and-dried as I made out.”

  Careful, not wanting to put her off, he casually asked, “How so?”

  “When I was hired there was a rumor that management brought me on board to be trained for senior management.”

  “Well, you are smart.” Super-smart, if he remembered correctly.

  “But that also means I’ll ultimately be promoted over a lot of people. I knew some people weren’t happy about that, but everything seemed to be working out okay. But this week when I couldn’t even get anybody to tell me if the coffee was fresh, I realized that the team leader has been working to get me out from the beginning. And though I have no proof, it looks like I actually handed Glenn the way to get rid of me when I came up with the cereal campaign idea.”

  Drew sat up. “How’s that?”

  “Glenn’s been a team leader for two years. Yet he let us run with an idea that failed. Not only that, but the whole time we were working on it, he kept praisi
ng me. I thought he was really cool to give me the credit, but I think the real reason he did that was so everybody would remember it was my idea that failed so that when the extra work came down, everybody would know who to blame.”

  “You fell for the oldest trick in the book. He used your confidence to make you look stupid.”

  “Yeah. And now, nobody wants to work with me. And I almost get the impression he’s created some kind of scheme to get me fired.”

  Of course he had. That was what men did when they were angry. They picked an enemy and annihilated him—or, as in this case, her.

  Drew considered his course of action only a second, then asked, “How smart is this guy?”

  “How smart is he?”

  “Can you beat him? Should you really be his boss?”

  “Yes. When I was hired Glenn supposedly went into the personnel office and complained that if they brought me in to groom me for management, they were passing over lots of other qualified people. Rumor has it he was told that nobody else had the business background that I have. Mrs. Montgomery, the HR coordinator, even gave him a list of college courses he needed to take to be in line for a management position.”

  Drew weeded through everything Tia had said and homed in on the most important point. “You have a business background?”

  “I minored in business in college. Though I knew I wanted to go into advertising, I wasn’t really sure what kinds of jobs were out there and I knew I might end up being a consultant or even starting my own company. So I knew I needed to know how to run a business. It’s that knowledge that gives me my edge.”

  “Okay, you deserve to be trained for management, and Glenn still needs some education.” He paused and thought for a second, then said, “Unfortunately, you can’t call everybody together and just blurt that out as if you’re on the network news. They might buy it, but they won’t like it. So the only way to rescue yourself is to bring in an eager puppy.”

  “Bring in a dog?”

  “No, an eager puppy. You need to talk to your personnel director and ask her to transfer in somebody from another department who likes you. Somebody whose very willingness to work with you will make it obvious that other people are refusing to. That puts the ball back in their court. If they continue to refuse to work with you, they look bad.”