Back at home, Janel put the brownies in the oven and spent the next thirty minutes filling out her calendar. When she hit “save,” her and Nick’s days blended together.
Well, at least she was cyber-connected to her husband.
Chapter 12
Nick scrolled through his calendar, which had officially become the “Ryburn calendar”, with his events highlighted in green and Janel’s in purple.
Janel started school in one week and it looked like she’d be teaching a couple classes as well as monitoring a lab. She had a few hours set aside for research and writing her dissertation.
A biweekly visit to the salon appeared excessive. Janel didn’t seem like the type to go overboard on pampering herself, but Pamela had said that was part of the package when he signed up, so he shrugged it off. All in all, Janel was busy, but her evenings were free.
He tossed his phone on the desk in front of him. It wasn’t like his schedule was going to open up anytime soon. If they hadn’t gotten married on Monday, it would have been three, maybe four weeks before he’d be able to take a morning off again. Development for the new chip had hit a snag, and the late nights stretched out before him like a lonely country road.
Much later that night, or more accurately, early the next morning, Nick finally made it home. The house was dark, but not empty. Funny how just knowing Janel was asleep upstairs made a difference in the atmosphere.
Entering the kitchen, Nick was overwhelmed by the smell of fresh-baked goods. Chocolate baked goods. He followed his nose to a white plate holding a large brownie, covered in thick chocolate frosting and topped with chopped walnuts, waiting on the bar. There was a purple post-it note next to the plate that simply read, For Nick.
He fished a fork out of the cutlery drawer. This brownie demanded a tool for consumption. He took the plate and the note over to the table to eat. After two heavenly bites, he needed milk, and opened the fridge to find a half-gallon of chocolate milk, only partially drunk, waiting on the shelf. Nick shook his head in amazement. He could get used to having Janel around real fast.
The brownie disappeared in no time. Nick leaned back in his chair and rubbed his belly. For some reason, he was proud. Proud that this brownie came from the kitchen he’d designed. He downed the last of his chocolate milk and set the glass in the sink, pondering the strange effect Janel had on him. He hadn’t seen her since the wedding, and yet she’d managed to make him feel cared for just by leaving a brownie.
Pausing at the top of the stairs, Nick noticed Janel’s door was slightly open. If they were more familiar with one another, he’d consider it an invitation to let her know he’d made it home. Even though they were married, they weren’t familiar—yet. He grinned. There were ways to fix that.
He ran back down the stairs to his office and wrote his own post-it note, sticking it just inside her door.
Nick quickly got into bed, shut his eyes, and willed sleep to come before he thought any more about how close he and Janel could really become.
Chapter 13
The next morning, Janel found a post-it note on the light switch just inside her bedroom door. It said, Best brownie ever! Couldn’t find the pan—please make more.
Grandma always said her brownies were magical. Perhaps they were. She flipped the post-it over, wondering if Nick was still in the house. She wasn’t about to go knocking on his bedroom door. Maybe she’d catch him in the kitchen.
Throwing a robe on over her pajama bottoms and tank top, Janel ran down the stairs. She pulled up short at the sight of Nick rinsing his bowl in the sink. She’d forgotten how stinking gorgeous he was. He was already dressed for a day at the office.
Squaring her shoulders, she tried to appear casual—like she didn’t feel at all conspicuous in her bathrobe in a stranger’s house. Funny, she’d only been here a few days and already it felt like home.
“Morning,” she chirped.
Nick looked up from the soap bubbles and fumbled with his bowl.
Janel opened the freezer and pretended not to notice the flush climbing up his neck.
Recovering quickly, Nick replied, “Good morning.”
Retrieving two individually wrapped brownies from the freezer, Janel held them out to Nick. “I, um, got your note. If I’d known you wanted more, I wouldn’t have frozen them. But—” She pumped her eyebrows. “You haven’t lived until you’ve tried Grandma’s Brownies frozen.”
“Really?” Nick looked intrigued as he accepted both brownies.
“Go on.” Janel inclined her head.
“I just had breakfast.”
Janel crossed to the pantry and found the oatmeal. “I won’t tell.”
Nick grinned wickedly, and Janel’s grip tightened, bending the cardboard oatmeal tube.
He sucked in a breath as his teeth cut through the cold frosting, and chewed slowly.
Turning away, Janel was able to regain her thoughts. “Well?” She measured out a serving of oatmeal and added water. “Good, right?”
“Oh, my, ghoofreid.”
Janel laughed. “I’ll take that as a 'yes'.” She put her bowl in the microwave and set the cook time.
Nick took another bite. Tipping his head to the side, he looked from the brownies in his hand to the freezer and back.
“What?” Janel asked.
Nick swallowed. “I’m not sure frozen is my favorite.”
“You like them better at room temp?”
“I think I’m going to have to try both, together, in order to figure it out.”
The microwave beeped, and Janel retrieved her breakfast. “Are you trying to tell me you need more?” she asked over her shoulder. “There’s a whole pan’s worth in the freezer.”
Nick tore open the freezer. He looked in and then shook his head. “I just don’t see how those are going to last.” He snatched three bags. “See, they’re disappearing fast.”
Janel laughed. “Okay. Lucky for you, I bought enough supplies for two batches.” She’d bought enough for four, but she had a feeling Nick didn’t need to know that.
“No rush.” Nick snatched another brownie baggie.
Janel’s hand went to her hip. “No rush?! At this rate, they’ll be gone by dusk,” she teased. She didn’t mind at all that Nick loved her baking.
Nick lifted his shoulders. “I’ll be gone all day. I need to stock up.”
“In that case ...” Janel retrieved a brown lunch sack from the pantry. “You’ll need a way to carry them.”
Nick’s eyes sparkled. “Good idea.”
Janel opened the bag and Nick emptied his hands. After folding over the top, Janel handed it to Nick.
Nick leaned over and kissed her cheek, causing Janel’s heart to thump loudly against her ribs.
“Thanks for the sweets.” Nick’s breath caressed Janel’s cheek.
Paralyzed by the jolt of desire that coursed through her, Janel didn’t reply as Nick pulled away. They made eye contact, and he looked as surprised as Janel felt.
“Have … Have a great day.” Her words came out raspy, and her stomach flipped.
Nick stepped back. “I will, now.” He blinked twice and then held up the lunch sack. The movement was an afterthought, and Janel wondered if he’d meant that something other than the brownies had improved his day.
***
Grandma’s magic brownies broke the ice. Later that day she received her second text from Nick.
How was class?
Janel stared at it for a moment. Should she answer right away? She checked his calendar. Nick was in a budget meeting. She didn’t want to bother him, but he’d sent a text so she could at least reply.
Good/Busy. I always have a couple students who want to add the class late and then have to scramble to catch up. Correcting first assignments now.
She bit her lip as she hit send, wondering if she’d said too much. Maybe she should have kept it short.
His reply was encouraging. They’re lucky to have you. I remember a couple instructors who we
ren’t that nice.
Janel smiled. That was sweet of him. She stared at the phone. Was she supposed to text back? Ugh. She was so unskilled at electronic conversations. It gave her way too much time to second-guess herself, and she much preferred to see the guy’s face. Now that she’d waited this long, it felt awkward to send another message. Besides, wouldn’t that make her look needy or something?
With a beep, a picture came through. Janel squinted and pulled the phone closer. She burst out laughing. The image was of the bottom of the lunch sack, where one lonely brownie, with smashed frosting no less, awaited its fate.
Wow, you have a serious chocolate problem. ;) I’ll see what I can do to help.
Not fair to tease…
No teasing, what time are you going to get home?
There was a delay, and Janel tapped her fingers on her desk. Was she being too presumptuous?
Eventually his answer came. Sigh. Late. Sorry.
The disappointment ran deep. Deep enough that it made Janel wrap her arms around her middle. Janel was usually pretty even-keeled: she didn’t get too upset about things, or too excited about them either—unless they involved Mayan mummies and tombs. What was it about Nick that caused these caveman reactions—or rather, cavewoman reactions? First she’d had the desire to taste the chocolate on his lips this morning, and now she felt let-down enough that all she wanted to do was blow off correcting papers and hit the hot tub for some R&R. That type of thinking was so unlike her.
With a start, she realized Nick was waiting for her response.
No worries. Chocolate will keep.
Thanks. ;)
Janel looked at her desk calendar. Since she’d explained—as much as the confidentiality agreement would allow—the private funding she procured for the expedition to Professor Ford, he’d helped her create a timeline to complete preparations for the dig. She might not be in the right mindset to correct papers, but she was always ready to work on her thesis.
Even as she perused applications from grad students who wanted to be a part of the crew, her mind wandered back to Nick. He’d looked so good this morning: his hair still wet from the shower, and the way it felt when his lips brushed her cheek! If a kiss on the cheek felt like that, she could hardly imagine how incredible a real kiss would feel.
The image of Nick pulling her close overtook all thoughts of applications. Janel spent a few minutes in her new happy place before jerking herself away. Crossing her arms on her desk, she dropped her head onto them.
Stupid cavewoman!
Chapter 14
Over the course of several days, Janel and Nick began communicating through sticky notes, desserts, and texts. Much to Janel’s relief, their texting communication came easy as long as she didn’t analyze the breaks. She’d text Nick right up until a class started and then she’d have to stash her phone, creating an hour-long pause between texts. She realized Nick probably did the same thing, and the pauses most likely meant he was working, not freaking out over what she typed.
Though she enjoyed e-flirting, Janel wished they’d have the chance to spend more time together. Their weekly planning meetings were held over the phone instead of over a meal, and usually happened during Nick’s lunch and her short break between classes. He swore that would change as soon as this project was over. Phone conversations were quick and to the point and left a lot to be desired. But this is what she’d signed up for, and as far as jobs go, this one was cake.
For Janel, the next month was a whirlwind of new students, new responsibilities, new clothes, and a new home. The house was great. In fact, it was better than great: it was her private playground. She ran every morning on the treadmill, except for Thursday mornings when Steve worked her through a new type of torture. The morning he tried to get her to Zumba was a morning she’d never live down. It was just too funny watching a guy that big salsa his way through the grapevine. Between her laughter and her lack of attention, she’d ended up tangled in some weight-resistant contraption, and it took Steve five minutes to get her out. At one point, she thought he’d have to call in the fire department to use the Jaws of Life. Not cool. They stuck to weightlifting and body conditioning after that.
She caught Nick in the kitchen a couple of times. Usually he was rinsing out a cereal bowl as she raced through to grab a granola bar and a breakfast shake on her way to class. There were several other people who worked in the house throughout the day, so it wasn’t uncommon to bump into someone. Nick, however, was a rare treat. And what a treat he was, with his button-up shirt rolled up at the cuffs and his tie flung over his shoulder so he didn’t spill on it. She full-on admitted that he was fun to look at. Janel found his easy masculine confidence attractive and looked forward to getting to know him better—if his schedule would ever let up!
***
About a week into October, Janel got a surprise text from Trish.
Big weekend. We need to shop.
Clicking over to her calendar, Janel realized that Saturday was marked in blue, blue being an event she and Nick would share. The mayor was hosting a masked ball for a fundraising event, and she was scheduled to go with Nick.
She quickly texted back: Mask???
I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 3.
Thanks.
She pushed the ball and costumes out of her mind in order to negotiate with the airlines. Her first paycheck would pay for the seats, and she wanted to get the travel arrangements in place.
***
The next afternoon, Janel settled into the passenger seat of Trish’s eco-friendly car.
Trish gave her a one-armed hug hello. “How are things going?”
Janel shrugged. “They’re fine.”
“Are you excited about the ball?”
“More like scared out of my mind.”
Trish patted her hand. “You’ll be fine.”
Janel thought about it. She was pretty used to the idea that she was married. Besides the move and the new apartment there wasn’t that much that changed in her life. She still did all the things she did before; she just slept in a different place and had much better technology. She smiled as her phone chirped.
How’s your day? Nick asked.
Good. Shopping for something for the ball.
Can you grab me something too?
Janel felt her skin grow cold. She’d done other odd errands for Nick over the past month. Mostly stuff for the house like letting the electrician in or making sure he’d set the security system in the morning before she left; but she’d never shopped for him. She pressed her hands to her cheeks.
“What is it?” asked Trish.
“Nick wants me to pick him up something to wear to the ball.”
“So ...?”
“So, I’ve never bought anything like this for myself. I have no idea what women are supposed to wear, let alone a guy.”
“That’s why you have me. Text him back and tell him you have it covered.”
“If you say so.” Janel typed, No problem.
Thanks. Any chance you’re making brownies tonight?
Janel tipped her screen so Trish couldn’t see it. I was in the mood for peanut butter cookies.
With chocolate chunks?
Maybe.
Can’t wait to try them!
Two hours and a dozen dresses later, Janel finally had a completed look for the ball. The store had a complementary costume for a man and Trish swore it was perfect.
“It’s better that you go as a matching couple to solidify your marital status in people’s eyes. Nothing says ‘solid couple’ like matching costumes,” she said.
After saying goodbye to Trish, Janel hauled the garment bags up the stairs to her room. The enormous walk-in closet was only partially filled with her things, so she had a full rod to commit to the dress and suit. As she pulled the heavy skirts out so they wouldn’t wrinkle, she debated on taking Nick’s to his room. In all the weeks she’d spent in the house, she’d never once set foot in the master suite. It was just too p
ersonal to walk into a man’s bedroom and she wanted him to trust her not to snoop, so she gave him his space.
***
At one o’clock on Saturday afternoon, Brenda marched into Nick’s office and kicked him out. “You have to stop at the barber’s for a shave before the ball tonight.”
He panicked. “The ball’s tonight? I didn’t get a costume.”
“I thought you said Janel was taking care of that.”
Nick rubbed his short beard. He hadn’t had time to shave for four days, and it was starting to itch.
He quickly texted Janel: Did you find a costume for me?
Yes. Hope you don’t mind, we match.
Nick grinned. He’d seen couples come in matching costumes to previous fundraisers and thought the idea was great. Don’t mind. Can you send a pic?
When the image came through, he groaned. She’d gone medieval on him. The pants would most likely be tight, and the lace at the collar would itch. The evening just went from bearable to stifling.
Do you like?
It’s fine. I’ll be home by 5:30.
As Nick slid his phone into his pocket, he realized that this was the first night since they’d been married that he would be home before dark, and the first time he’d take his wife on a real date. Over the last several weeks, he’d spent a lot of time texting her and even more time thinking about her. He was nervous that he’d built her up in his mind only to be disappointed that night.
He showed the picture to the barber, and the man shaped his scruff into a pointed goatee and trimmed his hair so it looked more like he meant to have longer hair and not so much like he hadn’t had a haircut in six weeks. He liked the length, but the waves tended to get unruly if let go for too long.
The Academic Bride: Billionaire Marriage Brokers Book One Page 7