Husband: Some Assembly Required

by Marie Ferrarella

  Three days now she’d been on his mind, as entrenched there as ivy tenaciously growing up a trellis. There was no way he could exile her from his thoughts.

  But he had to.

  This time the damage might be even worse than before. He wasn’t sure he could handle it. He’d been in love with Janice, really in love. He’d envisioned himself having it all as he made a bid for the Amer-ican dream. White picket fence, a wife, two kids, everything.

  And then Janice had knocked his foundations right out from under him. A woman he’d trusted had lied to him and humiliated him. It made a man stop and think. Made him gun-shy.

  It had never happened to him before. With his outgoing, gregarious manner and good looks, Murphy had never faced rejection of any kind, much less something like this. It went beyond rejection. He felt himself deceived, betrayed. To have misjudged a person, a situation, so greatly had knocked out the underpinnings of his confidence. He’d had absolutely no idea how to handle it. How to handle the pain that came along with it. So he’d denied it all.

  The women he’d seen after Janice had all been pleasant, all seeking temporary companionship. No one was hurt. No one became involved. It had worked reasonably well.

  And then Shawna had come into his life, upending everything. She had said she wanted no strings, had made it clear she couldn’t handle strings. He’d agreed, pleased.

  But he discovered that he was lying. He wanted strings. And as soon as he realized that, he knew it was time to back off. Back off and run in the opposite direction, where tranquillity lay.

  So why the hell didn’t he feel tranquil?

  * * *

  Shawna looked at her assistant. She was attempting to sound impersonal, but it wasn’t working. It was bad enough that Murphy hadn’t called her in three days. Three long days while she had eyed her answering machine like some silly teenager. But canceling his appointment was the last straw.

  “That was it?” she demanded, shoving her hands deep into her lab coat. “He just canceled?”

  Jeanne nodded. Her heart went out to the doctor, but she knew better than to show it. “He said he was feeling better and that maybe there had been a mistake in the M.R.I.”

  That again. She was really hoping that they were past this point. Obviously they were back to square one. An odious square one.

  She felt restless and insulted, angry and hurt. And it was all his fault. “There was a mistake, all right, but not in the M.R.I.” She pressed her lips together. “I don’t suppose he wanted to reschedule.”

  “No,” Jeanne said quietly.

  Shawna shook her head. “Idiot,” she muttered under her breath.

  Struggling with her temper, she returned to her office. She closed the door behind her, counting to ten. Shawna felt like throwing something.

  How dare he do this to her? How dare he stir her up, make her feel that there was just the smallest chance that things might work out for them, and then just vanish out of her life?

  Well, damn him, anyway, she didn’t need this. Didn’t need him.

  She closed her eyes as she sank down at her desk. She had gotten to a point where she didn’t need anything.

  And he had messed that up royally.

  Taking a deep breath, Shawna attempted to calm herself down. Wednesday was ordinarily a short day. She didn’t see patients after twelve. Jeanne usually went home by twelve-thirty. This was the time she usually worked on reports, dictating them for Jeanne to transcribe later for the files. With whatever time was left, she tied up any loose ends.

  Today she didn’t feel like tying anything except a noose around Murphy’s neck.

  And then she remembered. She had promised her mother that she’d take her shopping today. It wasn’t a particularly appealing way to spend an afternoon. She didn’t care to spend hours browsing through clothes in department stores, but it was better than sitting here, feeling the definite sting of rejection.

  She should have known it would go this way.

  And yet...

  And yet he’d been so damn appealing, so sincere, she had lost her footing without realizing it. He’d worked his way through the layers that cocooned her feelings, had shown her a glimpse of a world that took her breath away and—

  The telephone rang, dissolving all her thoughts like snowflakes on a stove. Murphy? The flicker of hope danced through her even as she tried to shut it out. Her line buzzed before she could lift the re-ceiver.

  “It’s your mother on one.”

  Shawna struggled to hide the disappointment she felt. It was her mother, impatient to get started. “Hello, Mother? I’ve just got a few things to clear up and then—”

  “Darling, there’s been a change of plans.”

  Shawna knew what was coming before it was said. It was an old familiar pattern. But this time she thought she actually detected a hesitant embarrassment in her mother’s voice. That would be a first.

  “Would you mind terribly if I canceled our shopping spree?”

  Shawna leaned back and merely shook her head. She was too angry at Murphy to be annoyed with her mother, though the words déjà vu rolled through her mind. “No. I take it something’s come up.”

  “Oh, yes,” Sally gushed like the schoolgirl she’d never ceased being. “Simon wants to take me out for a late lunch. Isn’t that wonderful?”

  “Wonderful.” There’d been hundreds of canceled events in her life. She’d gotten accustomed to them a long time ago. But this time she actually felt happy for her mother. Simon McGuire, while she let him, was going to make a difference in her mother’s life. A difference, Shawna felt, the woman sorely needed. Maybe she’d needed someone like Simon all along. “This makes how many times?”

  “Twice.” The only way to have missed the pride in her mother’s voice was to have been struck deaf. “I think he’s getting serious.”

  She could very well be right, Shawna thought. Her mother was a good-looking woman, well in her prime, and McGuire needed a little companionship in his life. They were both old enough to know what they wanted, and what to do about it.

  Still, Shawna couldn’t help feeling protective of both of them. “Mother, Simon McGuire is a very nice man. Don’t hurt him.”

  “Hurting him is the last thing I have in mind.” Sally laughed softly, contented. “I think he’s the end of my rainbow. He makes me happy, Shawna. Really happy.” Shawna had heard that before, but sincerely hoped that this time her mother meant it. “I feel guilty, breaking our date.”

  Now, that was a first. Maybe Simon was having a good effect on her. Or maybe her mother was growing up a little at last. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

  “I know, why don’t you have lunch with your guy?”

  She felt herself stiffen reflexively. “I don’t have a guy, Mother.”

  “Yes, you do,” Sally insisted in a knowing manner. “Murphy.” She paused, as if she was about to hang up, then added, “Some men just take time, Shawna. Others need a little nudge to get them on their way. Bye.”

  Shawna knew just where she would have enjoyed applying that little nudge.

  * * *

  “You broke your appointment.”

  The tip of Murphy’s pencil snapped as he looked up and saw her standing there in his doorway. He blinked, wondering if he was now seeing things, as well.

  But she was there.

  And real.

  For the second time in his life he felt awkward. He shrugged. “I was busy.”

  Shawna raised her chin. “I see.”

  She still wasn’t entirely certain what had possessed her to come here, other than hurt pride. She wasn’t the type to be pushy and certainly not the type to chase after a man.

  But then, she would have bet that she wasn’t the type to respond the way she had on Saturday night, either. He’d shown her a side of herself that she hadn’t even known existed and this new woman had facets to her that Shawna was about to let loose.

  Instead of retreating, the way she might hav
e, she crossed to him, her eyes blazing. He owed her an explanation.

  “I didn’t think you were the type to just use a woman and then leave, sneaking out of her life. Especially after what you said.”

  Her eyes pinned him in place before he could reply. “You disappointed me, Murphy. I thought you were different.” With that, she turned away, determined to make it to the elevator before she allowed the angry tears to flow. She certainly didn’t want him to think they were because of him.

  He’d seen the pain in her eyes, and guilt seized him by the throat. Damn, he’d been thinking only of himself, not her. “Shawna.”

  Very slowly, as if she could move only in slow motion, she turned around. “What?”

  “Maybe you scare me.” It was a sorry excuse, but it was the truth.

  That was absurd. She was tempted to hit him. Something else he’d managed to unleash in her. She’d never had a temper before. “I’m five foot two. I don’t scare anyone.”

  He crossed to her then, before she had a chance to leave him. As much as he’d wanted her, he didn’t realize the full magnitude until he saw her.

  Murphy took her hands in his. “Yes, you do. You scare me. Scare the hell out of me.” He drew her back into the room, closing the door behind her. “I told you about Janice.”

  She pressed her lips together, some of her bravado winding down. “Yes, you did.”

  This wasn’t easy. He’d never even admitted this to himself. “What I didn’t tell you was how much it hurt.”

  She shook her head. The idiot. Didn’t he think she could figure that out on her own? “You didn’t have to.” She almost laughed at the surprised look on his face. “Women can sense these things.”

  He felt himself floundering. How did he tell her that things had gotten out of control for him? “I wanted us to have a good time without strings.”

  That much he had made perfectly clear earlier. What he hadn’t said was that he’d be out of her life so quickly. “A doctor’s appointment isn’t a string.”

  He laughed softly. “Yes, it is, when it’s with you.” He sat on the leather sofa, taking her with him. “I like being free.” He smiled as he looked into her eyes. Because he couldn’t help himself, he traced the hollow of her cheek with his fingertips. “Except that I’m not. Every time I shut my eyes I see you. When you walked in, I thought my imagination had gone into overtime.”

  She pulled herself free. He was doing it again, weaving a web around her. And she couldn’t let him do that. She had to be able to think clearly.

  “I don’t understand.” She pulled her head back, away from his touch, away from the warm haze he could create so easily. “You ply me with arguments why I shouldn’t back away, and then you do a disappearing act.” She bit her lower lip, stopping herself before she admitted too much to him, before she told him how she felt. It would only send him running back to his bunker. “Well, I won’t let you disappear, not until you get that eye surgery.”

  He needed to know that she cared. Maybe if he did, he wouldn’t feel like bolting. “The surgery. Is that the only reason?”

  She fixed him with a determined look, locking away the feelings that were churning inside her. She wanted to be held, loved, wanted. He made her realize that she needed so much. But she couldn’t allow herself to be a supplicant. “The only reason you’ll hear from me. We said no strings, and I’ll keep to that bargain if you do.”

  He blew out a breath. He was getting back exactly what he’d said he wanted. Except that he didn’t want it anymore. And it was killing him that he needed someone.

  “I have to tell you,” he said honestly, “you’re turning me inside out.”

  She measured her words carefully. It was too easy to let herself believe him. “What I’d like to do is wring your neck.”

  He grinned at the threat. Humor, as he’d told her, was his best ally. That and the armor plating around his heart. “Over dinner?”

  He was doing it again, she thought, breaking down her defenses even though she knew what was coming. She should have her head examined. They’d probably find it empty. “Over anything you want as long as I have a clear shot at it.”

  He rose and pulled her up with him. Murphy felt the glide of her body against his. Yearning flared within him. He’d done nothing but want her for three days now. “I’ve missed you.”

  She wanted to believe him, even though she knew it was just temporary. “You’ve got a hell of a way of showing it.”

  She certainly had the right to say that. “Yeah, I know.” He leaned his cheek against her hair. It smelled of sunshine. “So what do we do about this?”

  “Beats me.” She looked up at him, fear warring with desire. “And don’t think I haven’t thought of it. Beating you, I mean.”

  He liked the way humor curved her mouth. “I never realized that you had such violent tendencies.”

  “Neither did I.” She paused, knowing she was admitting too much. “I never knew a lot of things about myself until there was you.”

  He knew exactly what she was saying. A shiver of fear wedged through, but he pushed it away. There was time enough for regrets later. “Happening way too fast, isn’t it?”

  She could only nod. Her heart was accelerating just being near him like this. “Way too fast.”

  He could feel a sadness as he thought of the future. Without her. “You know what they say about things that heat up so fast.”

  He was already laying foundations for leaving, she thought. All right, if that was the way of it, she’d enjoy what there was. “Too hot not to cool down.”

  In his heart he’d hoped she’d say something to the contrary. “That’s what they say.”

  She looked at him. “So?”

  Damn, he’d take what he could and tell himself it was enough. “So let’s warm ourselves by the fire while it’s there.” He caressed her face. “I think we both deserve it.”

  Wantonness filled her. She was acting against type again. But she was beginning to lose sight of who she was, standing here with him. “I have the next couple of hours free. My mother ducked out on a shop-ping spree.”

  He couldn’t picture her going from store to store willingly. “I didn’t think you’d enjoy that.”

  “I don’t, she does. I was doing it for her.” A smile curved her mouth. “Except that she went off with McGuire.”

  He could see how McGuire might be attracted to Shawna’s mother. “She is a femme fatale, isn’t she?” Shawna nodded. Murphy tightened his arms around her. “I like the subdued type myself. They tend to be deeper.”

  “Nice try.” She wedged a hand against his chest. “They also don’t tend to be sidetracked. What I was getting at was that you could come back with me to my office and I’ll give you that follow-up exam.” She became serious. “I don’t like you playing games with this condition you have.”

  “I’d rather you played doctor somewhere else where we won’t run the risk of being interrupted.”

  She had one hand on the doorknob, determined to get him to see reason, at least about this. “Later.”

  “Promises, promises.” He followed her out the door, trying not to make promises of his own to himself.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The atmosphere within the small restaurant was smoky. Voices mingled with the sound of soft, bluesy music and the noise of people enjoying themselves, falling in love, or just merely being.

  Harlow’s was the kind of place a man brought a woman, if he wasn’t trying to overwhelm her, Shawna thought as she sipped her wine. The food was good, the service adequate and the ambience incredibly romantic.

  But then, anywhere would be romantic, she mused, with him. Murphy had extracted the promise of dinner from her in trade for patiently enduring another examination in her office. Or as patiently as Murphy could manage. It hadn’t taken much work on his part to get her to agree.

  Murphy saw the smile rising to her eyes, the one that seemed to spread out from the core of her soul. He wondered if sh
e knew how much she captivated him. How she kept reeling him in when he was trying to find ways to swim out to the open sea. “What are you smiling about?”

  She placed her wineglass down and looked at him. A glib answer rose to her lips, one that would allow her to hide her feelings. But she didn’t want to hide things anymore. Like a caged bird whose door had suddenly sprung open, she didn’t want to return to her confinement. She wanted to be with him.

  Shawna twirled the stem of her glass in her fingertips. “This is the way I imagined it.”

  God, but she did make retreat one hell of a difficult accomplishment. “When? When did you imagine this?” When they’d arrived at Harlow’s for dinner she’d mentioned that she’d never been here before.

  “In high school.” She’d envisioned them together like this. It had never been in a specific place, just some wonderful little restaurant where the atmosphere created an aura of intimacy around them. “Being with you like this.”

  He’d never thought about her being attached to him then. It had been too much of an uphill fight for him to believe that she had ever really had feelings for him before.

  “You thought about us?”

  Her smile broadened at his surprise. “Every girl in every one of your classes thought about you and her forming an ‘us.’”

  He didn’t want to talk about every girl; he wanted to know how she had felt. “Why didn’t you ever...?”

  There were times when men could be so thick! “Because every girl thought about you and her forming an ‘us.’” She moved her half-empty glass aside. The flame from the candle in the center of the table shimmered within the liquid, trapped there. Just as she was, she thought. Trapped by her feelings, by her desire. But maybe it wasn’t a trap at all. Not if she held the keys to the door. “If nothing else, I was always a realist.” A self-deprecating smile curved her mouth. “Besides, I was getting enough rejection on the home front. I didn’t need to invite it elsewhere.”