Just for Appearances

by Jenna Rutland

  “You know—” she began, then stopped herself. The swing rocked back. And forth. And back.

  “What is it, Rach?” he murmured, turning his head to inhale the sweet scent of the flowery shampoo she used on that amazing hair. She smelled the same. It nearly killed him.

  Shaking her head, she shifted her body ever so slightly away from him. “No, it’s stupid.”

  He reached for her, wrapping his hand around the one holding the bottle, stopping the nervous movements of her thumb. “No. It’s not.”

  She pulled away abruptly, but then her breath escaped on a sigh. “My ex-husband never asked how my day went. I’m not comparing the two of you—it’s just something I realized when you did it.”

  He spoke quietly, careful not to betray how good it felt to have her confide in him. “You can talk to me about him. It’s okay.” Maybe he shouldn’t press her about the past, but dammit, he wanted to know what had happened. Did she want the divorce? Did she still love her ex? Was that why she had never remarried?

  Her hands trembled. To still them, he laced their fingers together. A shudder passed through her as their eyes locked, and his heart slammed against his chest.

  “It’s okay, Rach.”

  “I…” She shrugged. “I try not to think about it. It was a long time ago.”

  “Talk to me.”

  Sadness had erupted on her face, and unshed tears rimmed her eyes. He knew it had to be difficult for her. Did she think about her husband every time she looked at her children? Every time she signed her name? Every time she lay in bed alone?

  She released a drawn-out sigh. “Greg and I met in college—he was in his first year of law school, and I was a junior. I idolized him.”

  Her chocolate eyes were tormented and filled with misery, and he struggled with his desire to hold her. Instead, he gave a gentle squeeze of his hand to urge her to continue.

  “The demands of Greg’s classes increased, and he had a hard time holding down a job. He needed the money, so I started part-time work of my own to help him. I earned little, and it didn’t put a dent in his tuition costs. We had already talked about marriage, so he persuaded me to quit school for a while and work. I never did go back. I ended up working two full-time jobs until he graduated.”

  “Nice guy. How in the hell did you pull that off?” John hated the guy already and had never even met him. His gut told him the selfish jerk had dangled the promise of marriage in front of her to entice Rachel to bust her butt to keep him in school.

  “I admit it wore me down, but I loved him. The dream of a picture-perfect life inspired me. I assumed we’d be married after he graduated and settle down. Buy a house and have a bunch of kids. Happily ever after.”

  “Didn’t happen that way, huh?

  She shook her head and scoffed. “No, and I was an idiot to believe it would.”

  “Love’s a tough game, sweetheart. I don’t think anyone’s lived their life without being burned.”

  “Soon after Greg graduated, I found out I was pregnant. He’d been hired by a prestigious law firm and had to travel overseas quite a bit. We barely saw each other.”

  With her thumb, she stroked his hand that now substituted for her bottle. Her expression stilled, then turned somber. “It took him almost a year to make his first visit.”

  The impact of her words blindsided him. Unimaginable. Greg had left her for an entire year! That meant… John studied at her in disbelief, and she confirmed his conclusion.

  “I was alone when the twins were born. They were nine months old the first time Greg saw them.” Her face brightened at the mention of her babies.

  He shook his head in disbelief. “I have to be honest here, Rach, I think you’re a helluva lot better off without him. No offense, but the guy’s an ass.”

  She paused to consider his statement. “I think the idea of being a father scared him. He was afraid to fail. If he wasn’t around—if he didn’t try—he couldn’t fail.”

  Damn, why did she defend the jerk? Greg sure as hell liked being there for the conception. John refused to let his imagination construct any visuals of conception. At least with Rachel and her ex.

  “How’d you manage on your own?”

  “Your mom. What a godsend. There’s no way I could have done it without her. Financially, Greg took care of everything. But emotionally, Carol was a blessing.”

  He itched to ask another question, but wrestled with the fear of her answer. Curiosity won. “What about Zak?”

  A pink flush began its course up her neck and ran over her cheeks. She shifted her attention toward the lawn. Had he offended her with his question?

  “When Greg would visit, we were happy to see each other. We’d try to cram a marriage into a few days here and there—whenever he could get away. It was a stupid relationship. But I can’t regret it, because that’d be like wishing my boys weren’t born.”

  He slid his arm around her, then pulled her a little closer. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.” He wiped at her tears, but she didn’t seem to notice.

  “For a long time, I hoped he’d change his mind and stay.” She squeezed her eyes shut as if reliving that time of her life gave her physical pain. “I pleaded with him to try to make things work so we could be together. That’s all I ever wanted,” she whispered. “My own family.”

  He tightened his grip on her hand to encourage her to continue.

  “Greg took a leave of absence. Found a job with another firm here in town. He lasted four weeks before he talked me into returning to Europe with him. So I packed up the boys, and we spent the next six months on the road, moving them from one location to another. Greg buried himself in work. The boys and I were still alone—just in a different country. Greg and I finally agreed we didn’t have a marriage. I moved back here, bought a house, and two months later found out I was pregnant again.”

  “Did he come home for Zak’s birth?” John’s gut told him the answer.

  “No. Zak was eighteen months old when he met his dad. I’m surprised Greg even comes around at all.”

  “Why do you let him? It seems to me he doesn’t deserve to see them.”

  “For their sake, I keep hoping there’ll be a spark between them. Like it’ll suddenly be important to Greg to be their father.”

  “And be your husband?” Her grip on his hand intensified while he continued with his questions. “After all this time, would you take him back if he wanted you to be his wife?”

  …

  “No. I’ll definitely not make that mistake again. Not for anyone.”

  Stealing a glance at John, she found him staring across the porch, engrossed in his own daydream. She never would have believed it possible to talk to him about her ex-husband. She hadn’t even shared her feelings with her best friend, Dani.

  He turned his attention back to Rachel. “You deserve to have someone in your life to take care of you. If you’d take a chance, I bet you could find the right guy.”

  The way he said it made it obvious he didn’t include himself in that category. Which was good. They were being honest.

  “No. I found out a long time ago I don’t want or need anyone.”

  “Do you ever wonder when it’s your turn, Rach?”

  “My turn?” Was he referring to the two of them starting up a relationship again? She gave herself a mental smack.

  “Yeah. You’ve spent your life taking care of everybody else’s needs. But when is it your turn to need someone?”

  She looked at his glorious face, swollen and red because of her, then answered, “I don’t want a turn. Ever.”

  They sat in the swing, hands still joined, their fingers playing more than holding. Relief washed through her. He knew about her marriage now, and the atmosphere between them had changed.

  She disengaged her hands. She kept them busy tracing the stitching on her skirt hem. “I feel terrible about today’s events. I’m so sorry I jumped to conclusions before finding out the facts.” After she’d hesitated a
bit, she said, “So…would you consider watching the boys for the rest of the summer?” Might as well dive right off the deep end. She wanted him back. Would he return?

  She watched in amazement as those brilliant blue eyes fixated on her. His index finger traced the edge of her sleeveless blouse and teased a patch of skin when he let his finger drift off course. She shivered in response to his touch, and his gaze traveled from her eyes to her shoulder. He smiled. “Yeah, maybe,” he said with a smug expression. “But I want to renegotiate my contract.”

  “I’m not sure I can afford to pay you more.”

  “It’s not your money I want, sweetheart.”

  She locked eyes with him and squirmed in her seat. “What do you want?”

  “For starters, I want to stay later in the day and eat dinner with you guys.”

  She opened her mouth to speak, but never got the words out.

  “It’s hard to cook for one person. It’s even harder to eat alone every night. If I clean up the dishes afterward, it’ll free you up to be with the boys.”

  She bowed her head and stared at their hands.

  “Maybe I could even help with their bedtime.”

  “I don’t need help.”

  He held up his hand to stop her words. “Let me finish. You become irritated at everything I do, honey. You don’t say anything, but I see it in your eyes. And you tolerate it, because you feel you don’t have a choice. It’s hard for me to sit back and watch you run yourself into the ground. I want to be able to do things without you getting ticked off at me.”

  She released an exaggerated sigh.

  He fingered a wandering strand of hair on her cheek. “I know the world has taught you to do things on your own. Trust only yourself. I’ve never met anyone more determined to take care of her own responsibilities than you. Please, accept my help?”

  She turned her head away. Didn’t he get it? If she wasn’t careful, he’d make a place for himself in her life. In her boys’ lives. But he would leave in a few months. Could she spend even more time with him and survive once he was gone? She’d barely endured it the last time.

  He was quiet for a moment. “About what you said at the hospital. I don’t want to take over your life. Stop fighting me, Rach.”

  The truth was, his help was wonderful. It allowed her to concentrate on her job when she was at work without worrying about the boys or feeling like she was neglecting them. She leaned her head back to let it rest on the swing but encountered his arm instead. She turned in his direction. And made the only decision she could. “Okay.”

  He slipped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “There’s one more thing.”

  She pulled away and shot him a skeptical glance. This guy had to be great in business. Especially with women. He could get what he wanted with just that smile. Not to mention the rest of the package. “Nice move. You wait until I’ve agreed to one thing before you spring something else on me. Now what do you want?”

  His large hand cupped her face; his thumb stroked her cheek. “You.”

  Her heart flipped in her chest. “Me?”

  “Every Saturday.”

  She quit breathing. “I don’t think I heard you correctly,” she choked out.

  He smiled. “When was the last time you went out and enjoyed yourself? Dinner and a movie? The theater?”

  “I take the boys to the movies every once in a while. And we hit a restaurant every couple of weeks.”

  “That’s not what I mean. I’m talking about going out with grown-ups. To places where adults hang out.”

  “Oh.”

  “Can’t remember, can you?”

  “Yes, actually I can.” She raised her chin a little higher. “I’ve got a group of friends who get together throughout the year.”

  “And when was the last time?”

  “Christmas,” she mumbled.

  “Six months ago?”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Okay, so maybe it’s been a while, but I don’t think I’d qualify as a recluse.”

  He chuckled. “Okay. New deal. I’ll be the nanny for the rest of the summer, and in return, you let me help out when I want to without you getting mad, and we go out sometimes on Saturday.” He winked. “Maybe sometimes I’ll even let you pick the place.”

  Go out every Saturday? Like a date? Or was it pity? No way. “My Saturdays are packed with baseball games and grocery shopping. And I try to clean the house on the weekends. Sorry, no time left.”

  “I’ll be at the games—assistant coach, remember? When you’re finished shopping, I’ll come over and help you clean. The kids spend Saturday nights at Mom’s, right?”

  “Or Dani’s. Sometimes with my brother, Jack.”

  “I need to keep up my interaction with the townspeople. Their participation will be the only way to make the center a success.” He nudged her shoulder. “So, Rach, is it a deal? Want to check out some local hot spots with me?”

  John and her going out? Enjoying themselves? Boys gone all night? Invisible hands tightened around her throat. She really shouldn’t worry. Any minute now she’d be dead from lack of oxygen, and none of it would matter anyway. She just sat there, unable to remember any words.

  Finally, she managed a few. “Will you come back if I say no to the Saturday thing?”

  His smile was smug, and he gave his head a slow shake.

  “Seems like blackmail.”

  “Call it anything you want.” He graced her with a lazy smile.

  She narrowed her eyes and placed both feet on the ground, stopping the swing’s movement. “You drive a hard bargain, Mr. MacDonald.”

  He nudged her shoulder. “Don’t you forget it, Einstein.”

  Without her permission, her hand reached up and caressed his cheek and let her finger trail down his jaw. She heard his quick intake of breath, flattered that she could make him react to her touch. The heat of his whiskered skin kicked up her pulse to an alarming rate. She leaned over and gave his cheek a kiss.

  “See you tomorrow,” she whispered. She was sure the look of surprise in his eyes mirrored her own.

  …

  Two days later, he stood on Rachel’s deck and paused when he reached for the door handle. He shouldn’t have made that idiotic deal with her. He was trying to be a good guy here, but he’d probably overcompensated. He should be thinking about ways to keep a little distance from her instead of more ways to spend time with her. But it was so damn good to see her eyes sparkle with amusement and curiosity and a little bit of…what? Heat. They’d always enjoyed each other’s company, but that didn’t mean he had to take her out on pretend dates. Or were they pretend? They had to be. She was Lake Bliss born and this was the only town she wanted to call home. She and the kids needed stability and an unselfish man to stand by them. Her ex hadn’t been that type of man. And John wasn’t either. In his gut, this kids’ center would be successful, and he’d go on to build more.

  And the voice inside his head spoke with clarity. She let you walk away before, and she’ll do it again.

  Activity inside the house caught his attention. Rachel moved about in the laundry room, unaware of his presence. Frozen in place, he watched her through the screen door as she gathered products for their first Saturday cleaning. She had to stand on tiptoe to retrieve a bucket of supplies.

  Her body mesmerized him—smooth skin, firm muscle. Her upper arms were well defined even though he didn’t think she worked out on a regular basis. He let his gaze slide down to where her T-shirt had inched up her lower back to expose tantalizing flesh, then lower to where her calf muscles were taut from the effort of standing on her toes. Immediately, his body responded. He should probably make his presence known, but was too fascinated to move.

  After she placed the bucket on the counter, she opened the closet door, then leaned forward and pushed her backside out to greet him. Her shorts hiked up with the motion. His gut clenched, and he had to fist his hands closed in an attempt to squelch the impulse to push right
through the screen door and touch those long legs that had haunted him for a long time. When she got down on her hands and knees to pull something from the back of the closet, his groin tightened. He cleared his throat as he tried to ignore his body’s reaction. “Need some help?”

  She released a startled cry as she jumped up, and her head collided with the door handle. He was at her side in a second. He rubbed her head. She closed her eyes, then seemed to take a clarifying breath. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “I feel responsible. Sorry I scared you.” He reached out and smoothed down the hair that had fallen from her ponytail.

  “I meant the cleaning thing, not the head rubbing.” She backed up a few steps.

  “It’s no big deal. I’m more than happy to help out.” He bent down so that his mouth was close to her ear. “Besides, the faster we get this done, the sooner we can start our evening.” He smiled to himself as he detected her gentle shiver.

  More than an hour later, she vacuumed in her bedroom, her back toward the door, as he entered the room. Hypnotized, he watched her rear end sway back and forth with the pushing and pulling of the vacuum. He continued to watch as she backed right into him. She gasped, then turned to face him. Turning off the vacuum, she placed one hand on her hip and gave him a scolding look.

  “Just about done?” he asked, plopping down on the foot of her bed.

  She nodded, wrapping up the vacuum cleaner cord.

  “Want to take a shower?” he asked, lying back on the bed, placing his hands behind his head.

  At a furious rate, she continued winding the cord. What the hell pulsed through her mind? Did she think his suggestion was a couple’s shower? He arched an eyebrow, asking for her response.

  She ignored his question. “You know, we don’t have to do dinner. I’m sure there are plenty of other things you’d rather do.”

  “I only suggested that you take a shower while I wait, then we can head to my place so I can shower and change.” Standing, he asked, “What’s going on?” He moved forward and stopped in front of the vacuum cleaner. “Do I make you nervous?”

  She swallowed, then shook her head. Not a very good liar.