by Desiree Holt
Tara bit back the retort that jumped to her lips. “Do you think Lindsey might know of a babysitter we can trust?”
“I suppose. Jake has a big family, lots of nieces. Maybe one of them would do.” He tore a sheet of paper from a pad on the counter. “Here’s the number of the cleaning service.” “Fine. I’ll talk to them while you call Lindsey. Then I think we should get going.”
And just like that, Tara’s life turned upside down.
Chapter Four
While Tara arranged for a cleaning crew, Cole called Jake to ask him if he thought his wife might be able to help them.
“Lindsey came through for us,” Cole told Tara, snapping his cell phone shut. “She’s making the calls for us, but everyone’s in school until two o’clock. She’ll have someone here by three. That will give us enough time to take care of business. We can do it right here in Alamo Heights.”
“Good. The cleaning crew will be here at noon, so I’d better hustle. I asked for the biggest one they had and offered them double. I hope that’s okay. We’ll need it.”
They had a couple of sticky moments making the rest of their arrangements.
“Do you know where the carrier is?” Tara asked, holding Molly as they prepared to leave the house.
“I think Mrs. Randall put it in the garage.”
Tara looked at him. “You mean to tell me this baby has never been out of the house?”
His discomfort was obvious. “I’ll go get it.”
He brought it to her, holding it as if it would bite him, perplexed as to what to do with it. Tara gritted her teeth and settled Molly in it. “Can you watch her for a minute? I need to run upstairs and get a light blanket to wrap her in and pack a diaper bag.”
“Watch her?” Cole looked as if he’d bolt out the door.
Tara fought back her impatience. “She won’t get up and run away. Please. I’ll be quick.” Without giving him a chance to object, she raced up the stairs, dug in the chest of drawers in the nursery for some kind of light wrap, found the diaper bag in the closet and pulled things from the changing table, stuffing them in as fast as she could. She literally ran back down the stairs.
Cole was standing exactly where she’d left him, staring at Molly who stared back at him, sucking on her tiny fist.
She picked up the carrier. “I think we’re ready now. Do you want me to come in when we get to the office and get the temp settled?”
He shook his head. “We’ll take care of it. We’ve done it before. Worst comes to worst, if she’s a washout, I can forward the main line to the answering service and get one of the payroll clerks to file and help with other things.”
And those were the last words spoken until they reached the office parking lot. Tara didn’t even go inside, just shifted Molly, the diaper bag and her purse to her own car.
“I’ll pick you up at three,” Cole said.
Was it her place to ask if he’d be home for dinner? She realized how much about him was still a mystery to her.
“I don’t know what time you usually prefer to eat.”
“I don’t expect you to cook tonight, with everything that’s going on today. I’ll just pick something up.”
“No, please. I really want to fix dinner. I think I’ve overdosed on takeout and frozen dinners. Would eight be all right?”
“Whatever’s convenient for you. I have some things to take care of when we’re through with the license and rings. I’ll probably be home by seven.”
“I’ll see you this afternoon, then.”
She slid into her car and backed out of her space. Glancing in the rear view mirror as she shifted into Drive, she saw Cole still standing where her car had been, watching her retreating taillights. Her heart pinched painfully when she thought about the look of torment he wore whenever he looked at his child.
Well, kiddo, she told herself, fasten your seatbelt. You’re probably in for a bumpy ride.
* * * *
Cole sat in his office, staring at the folder in front of him. He’d gotten as far as opening it, but then his mind had shut down. He knew the decision he’d made was logical, a perfect solution to his dilemma. So why was he having such conflicting feelings about it?
It’s the ‘No Sex’ rule, dummy.
The last person he’d expected to make his cock sit up and take notice was Tara McKee. But last night at dinner, he’d had to keep his napkin on his lap and direct his brain elsewhere, because every time he looked at her, every bit of blood rushed from his big head to his small one.
After the disaster with Maggie, sex hadn’t even appealed to him—strange for a man with such a greedy appetite.
Then he’d taken a really good look at Tara. Suddenly, his cock swelled and his balls ached. He began to imagine her naked in his bed, hair spread out on the pillow, rosy-tipped breasts pointing at him, begging for his mouth. He could almost feel his lips around a plump nipple or his tongue busy between her legs lapping at her slit and tasting the juices in her cunt.
He shuddered inwardly as he thought of that idiotic phone call last night. It was just a good thing he didn’t drink, or he’d have blurted out the real reason. He wanted to change the ‘No Sex’ rule. He could just imagine how she would have reacted to that. So he’d made up a lame excuse, hung up and taken a cold shower, hoping that would help.
No such luck. When he’d gotten into bed, nude—a big mistake—and closed his eyes, his head had filled with images of Tara under him, over him. In frustration, he’d grabbed his demanding cock, trying to squeeze it into submission, but instead, he’d imagined Tara’s slim fingers wrapped around it. Or that mouth that suddenly fascinated him so much. Or the tight muscles of her pussy clenching around him, pulsing with her climax, bathing him in liquid heat.
Before he realized it, his spine tingled, his balls drew up and cum spilled over his fingers.
Great, just great.
He hadn’t done that since he’d been sixteen years old. At least another cold shower had helped settle him for the night. He wished he had something to settle himself now.
A knock on the doorframe made him look up to see Jake and Sean standing there. He grimaced, then motioned to them.
“Come in. you might as well hear all the gory details or you’ll pester me to death.”
* * * *
Tara’s the morning went by in a blur. She felt like a marathon runner, her mind still in turmoil and moving as fast as her feet. God only knew what Cole thought about her stepping into his life as if she’d always been there. Well, he’d told her to take charge, and that’s just what she’d done.
First, she’d gone to her house for some clothes. She’d hurried in with Molly in her carrier in one hand and the diaper bag in the other. But once there, she realized with a sinking feeling she hadn’t bothered to get Molly’s feeding schedule. She’d smiled down at the baby who sucked happily on her fists.
“Oh, well. We’ll just wing it.”
Packing two suitcases, she lugged them out to the car. Whatever else she needed she could come back for when she was better organized. Based on what time she’d arrived at Cole’s and seen the housekeeper struggling with breakfast, she figured she had at least until noon before the baby was hungry again. That would give her time for grocery shopping and anything else she needed to do right away. Taking one last look around the house, she locked the door with a strange feeling. Tonight, she would be sleeping somewhere else.
Thanking her good luck that the grocery wasn’t crowded, she filled the basket with staples and items for the meals she was planning. She had no idea what Cole’s food preferences were except for steak, so tonight they’d have spaghetti and meatballs, a dish she figured was a safe choice. She stashed the groceries in the car and hurried back to Cole’s, arriving just as the cleaning crew was pulling up in the driveway.
“Top to bottom,” she told the crew chief, a man she’d worked with many times. “Dump everything in the refrigerator and pantry and leave all the windows open. And let me k
now when I can get into the kitchen to put the groceries away.”
He nodded. “Leave it to us.”
She changed Molly, heated a bottle for her and rocked her to sleep in the nursery. It felt good to hold the baby in her arms, to sing to her and watch her cherub face as she sucked on the nipple and watched Tara with intense concentration. By the time she put Molly in her crib, the kitchen was ready for her. She unloaded groceries and put away things in the cheerful, yellow and white kitchen, now sparkling clean. Sun slanted in through the two huge windows that looked out on a wide backyard and patio.
She found vases for the flowers she’d bought on impulse, putting the largest bunch in the center of the kitchen table. Already the air was sweetened with their gentle fragrance.
Finally, taking a deep breath, she called her mother.
“Well,” Irene McKee said, after Tara had laid brought her up to date. “That must have been some dinner.”
Tara fielded questions, giving out minimal information. No, they hadn’t been dating each other exactly, but the relationship had developed since she’d been working. Yes, his wife had died two months ago, but she understood the marriage was really over long before the baby was born.
“A baby!” her mother said. “Oh! No wonder he wants to move things along.”
There was something in Irene’s voice now that Tara didn’t want to think about. Time to end the conversation.
“I’ve got to run, Mom, but I’ll call you later tonight, and we’ll have more time to talk. Okay. Bye.”
Her last chore was to unpack her suitcases in the room adjoining the nursery and make up her bed with the sheets she’d found in the linen closet. There. At least, she had a place for herself, whatever that place turned out to be.
She glanced at her watch. Two-thirty. Cole would be there at three on the dot. Time to get ready. Too bad she wasn’t looking forward to what should be the beginning of a happy chapter in her life.
* * * *
Pulling into his garage, Cole felt every muscle in his body knot in tension. He had no idea what he’d find—Tara gone in panicked flight, the babysitter watching the child? Or would he find Tara inside, still dashing around in an attempt to make order out of the chaos?
When he entered the house, he stopped short, his senses jarred. He felt as if he’d walked into someone else’s house. Everything was different. He heard James Taylor, a favorite of his, playing softly in the background, the soothing notes drifting out into the air. A delicious aroma, drifting from the kitchen, tantalized his nose and blended with the delicate hint of something floral. His nose twitched at the pleasant but unfamiliar fragrance.
In the kitchen, he saw the verticals on the glass door and the window over the sink had been pulled wide, exposing the lawn and shrubs bathed in early evening diffused light. Funny, he’d never taken a good look at the well-manicured, well-tended area, even though he paid a fortune for its upkeep.
Tara was just coming down the stairs with a young, ponytailed girl.
“Cole, this is Nicki, Jake’s niece. She’s going to watch Molly for us.”
“She’s just so adorable,” the teenager enthused.
Cole simply nodded. “Ready, Tara?”
“Yes.” She turned back to Nicki. “We should be back by five o’clock. Are you sure you’re comfortable giving her the bottle and everything?”
Nicki grinned. “I’ve done it for two sisters and a brother when I was a lot younger. You can trust me. Besides, Uncle Jake wouldn’t be too happy if I screwed up.”
“Well, thank you for doing this on such short notice.” She noticed Cole jingling his keys impatiently. “I’m coming.”
* * * *
As they pulled away from the house, he announced, “Judge Harrison can marry us next Friday at five. That’s a week from tomorrow. Will that work for you?.”
“Yes. Fine. That would be good.”
“I’ve asked Sean to be my best man. You’ll need to decide on who you want to stand up with you. I know it’s short notice, but is there someone you’re close to?” He suddenly realized how little he actually knew about her personal life.
“Oh.”
He glanced sideways at her and noticed her discomfort. Didn’t she have any close friends? What had she done with herself since her husband died, lived like a hermit? And now he was consigning her to another kind of isolation. He needed to find a way to make this more comfortable for her. “Let me make a suggestion? You know Jake’s wife, Lindsey. You’ve had lunch with her and talked to her when she’s come into the office. If there’s no one special you want to ask, I know she’d be happy to do this.”
“Cole, she’s your partner’s wife, not really a personal friend.” Tara’s voice was strained. “I’m sure she’d think that’s a terrible imposition.”
“I don’t believe she’d see it that way.” He softened his voice. “Call her. I’m sure she’d be honored.”
“If you say so.”She shrugged. “I’ll call her when we get home. Thank you.”
By four-thirty, they had applied for and received their license, and stopped at a jewelry store to buy rings.
“Pick whatever appeals to you,” Cole told her. “You don’t need to worry about the price.”
Red stained her cheeks, and she turned her head away. “I don’t need anything expensive. It should be something that represents our…bargain.”
Cole didn’t know what to say after that, so he simply kept quiet while she chose a plain gold band. Her eyes held a shocked look when he purchased one for himself.
“Good protection,” he said matter-of-factly.
He dropped her back at the house, his parting words brief. “See you about seven.”
As he backed out of the driveway, he couldn’t help but spare a glance for her slim figure climbing the steps to the front door, back straight, determination in every line of her body. Somehow, he had to find a way to make this pleasant for her. Make this work. But he’d be damned if he knew how.
He would have stayed at the office much later. Finding busy work, if Jake hadn’t chased him out at six-thirty.
“You’re about to get married,” he pointed out. “You got Tara to agree to the bargain. At least, behave with common courtesy.
Reluctantly, not knowing what kind of reception to expect when he got home, he put away the bid he was working on and went home. He held his breath as he walked into the house, hoping the earlier scene hadn’t just been a dream. But the air was still fresh and a delicious aroma wafted from the kitchen.
Tara was stirring something on the stove and humming along with the little under-the-counter stereo, her body moving to the music. She’d changed back into her jeans and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. The shiny mane swung in time to her movements. The soft denim of the jeans molded to her hips and the T-shirt emphasized the fullness of her breasts. This was a Tara he’d never seen before. She looked softer, more relaxed. Less businesslike. Certainly less tense than she’d been last night and earlier in the day.
He wanted to pinch himself because he still had trouble believing this warm, inviting atmosphere was his house. And this very sexy woman was about to become his wife.
Then he froze in place. What the hell was this? Shocked at the way his eyes roamed her body, at the hardening of his penis the minute he looked at her, he reminded himself this was an arrangement of convenience, nothing more. He couldn’t let this assault on his mind and senses shove him off track. No good could come of that.
He moved, making a slight noise, and Tara looked up, flushed from the heat of cooking. “Sorry. I guess I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Am I in the right place?’ he asked. “This doesn’t look or feel as if it’s the same house.”
“Thanks.” Her smile was tentative. “Dinner will be in just a minute. It’s really nothing special, just spaghetti and meatballs. I hope that’s okay.”
“It’s fine. More than fine.” He stood there stiffly, as if trying to figure out what to do wit
h himself. “Well, I’ll get rid of this jacket and tie and be right back. Tara, I want to thank you again…”
“I told you. No thanks necessary.” She turned her gaze back to the stove.
“You know,” he said, “both times I came home today, I worried all day that you’d decided it was more than you wanted to handle. That you wanted to run back to your desk as fast as possible.”
“Not when I see how much Molly needs me,” she told him firmly.
“Speaking of the child, where is she?”
”Molly,” she stressed the name, “has been fed and bathed and is sound asleep.”
Cole just shook his head, completely amazed.
* * * *
The atmosphere at the table was stilted, each of them trying to adjust to the idea that from now on they would be sitting down to meals together. What should we talk about? Tara wondered. How does he expect me to act? Lord, all the little things she hadn’t thought about. Did Cole feel as out of place as she did? By the time the meal was finished, they hadn’t gotten much past the basics.
How did things go at the office?
Fine. The temp is very bright. I’ll keep her a couple of weeks in the hope that she works out.
Would you like me to come by and go over anything with her?
No, I can handle it.
Fine. More iced tea?
When the dishes were cleared, Cole stood and filled his coffee mug from the freshly brewed pot. “I want to get out of these clothes. Can you meet me in my den in a few minutes? It’s just past the stairs. I have some papers to go over with you.”
Tara tensed. “Is everything all right?”
“More than all right. I just want to make sure everything is in order before I ask you to sign anything.”
Of course. The bargain.
She relaxed. “Okay.”
But her nervousness returned as she waited for him. She wiped her sweating palms on her jeans and fiddled with her ponytail. The den was very much him. Wood paneling on the walls, thick carpeting, a heavy oak desk, with a credenza that held enough electronic equipment that Tara was sure they could have launched a NASA expedition. The desk chair, the couch and the large armchair were upholstered in the soft leather she knew he preferred. The only pieces of artwork in the room were a Russell painting she knew he’d paid the earth for at a charity auction and a copy of the Remington bronze statue, Broncobuster. He’d tried and failed to get his hands on the original.