Her Secret Husband

“Yeah. Heath stayed in the guest room so I wouldn’t be alone. We talked last night and a couple of us are going to come stay here for a few months. Through the New Year, at least, to help with Christmas and such.”

Molly’s chin shot up—her mother was ready to argue—but she stopped herself and nodded. They both knew she couldn’t run the farm alone. Her petite frame and increasingly stiff fingers couldn’t haul Christmas trees twice her size. Having the kids here would take the pressure off of her and keep Ken resting the way he should. “Which of you are coming up?”

“Heath and I. He’s taking a few months away from the advertising agency. I’ve sold my house in Sag Harbor and I’m moving here until Dad is better, then I’ll find someplace new.”

“What about you and, uh...” Molly’s voice trailed off.

Her mother couldn’t remember the name of her boyfriend. That said volumes about her ill-fated relationship history. “Danny,” Julianne offered. “We’ve broken it off.”

“Oh,” Molly said. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Liar,” Julianne said, smiling into her coffee mug as she took a sip.

Molly shrugged, but didn’t argue with her on that point. “I’ve been speaking with a private medical care company about bringing your father home to recuperate instead of putting him in a nursing home. They recommended moving a bed downstairs, and they could provide a live-in nurse for a few weeks.”

“That sounds perfect.” She wanted her father to have the best possible care, but she hated the idea of him in a nursing home, even if temporarily.

“Well, except that you’d have to stay in the bunkhouse. We’d need to move one bed downstairs and have the other for the nurse. Is that okay?”

“Absolutely,” Julianne responded, although the idea of close quarters with Heath didn’t thrill her. Last night was bad enough. “It will give me some room to store my equipment, too.”

“Speaking of which, what about your studio? And your gallery showing? You have to keep working, don’t you?”

“The store is fine without me. My place in the Hamptons does too well to move and my staff there run it beautifully. As for my studio, I’m thinking I can work here and it wouldn’t impact the show. Since I’m staying out there, maybe I can use part of the bunkhouse.”

“You know,” Molly said, “the storage room there hasn’t been used in ages. We could clean that out and you could use it.”

“Storage room?”

“Yes. You know what I’m talking about. In the bunkhouse, under the staircase. It’s about twelve by twelve, I’d say, with a window and its own door to the outside. That’s where we used to hide your Christmas presents when you all were small. Right now, I think it might just have some boxes of the boys’ old toys and sporting equipment.”

Honestly, she hadn’t given much thought to the nook under the stairs. Her time in the bunkhouse was usually spent watching television or messing around with the boys, not surveying the property. “Now I remember. If it’s as big as you say, that would be perfect.”

“If Heath is staying,” Molly continued, “perhaps he can help you get the space ready. There should be some time before the holiday rush begins.”

“What am I helping out with?” Heath stumbled sleepily into the kitchen in jeans, a casual T-shirt and bare feet. His light brown hair was tousled. It was a far cry from his expensive tailored suits and perfectly styled hair, but it impacted Julianne even more powerfully. This morning, he looked more like the Heath she’d fallen in love with. The successful, powerful advertising executive was a stranger to her.

“We need you to help clean out the old storage room in the bunkhouse,” Molly answered.

He located a mug and made his own cup of coffee. “The one where you hid our Christmas presents?”

A light flush of irritation rose to Molly’s cheeks. Julianne had her mother’s same pale, flawless complexion. It was always quick to betray their feelings. They blushed bright red at the slightest provocation.

“You knew about that?” Molly asked.

Heath smiled and took a step farther from his mother under the guise of looking in the cabinet for something to eat. “We’ve always known, Mom. We just didn’t have the heart to tell you.”

“Well, hell,” Molly said, smacking her palm against the table. “Just as well we turn it into a studio, then.”

“Mom says that Dad’s surgery is tomorrow,” Julianne added, steering the conversation in another direction.

Heath pulled down a box of cereal and nodded. “Once we’re certain that he’s doing okay after surgery, I’ll probably head back to New York for a few days and get my things. I need to make arrangements with work and such, but I can probably be back up here in two or three days.”

Julianne nodded. She had plenty of things to take care of, too. “Same here. I’ve got to close on the house. Most of my things are already boxed up. I’ll put what I can in storage somewhere and bring the rest.”

“How are you going to get all your stuff into that little bitty sports car?” Heath asked.

“The Camaro is bigger than your Porsche,” she countered.

“Yeah, but I’m not hauling all your sculpting supplies and tools. What about your kiln?”

“I’m selling it locally,” Julianne said, although she didn’t know why he was so concerned. “I wanted a new one anyway, so I’ll get it delivered here.”

Heath frowned at her and crossed his arms over his chest in irritation. She tried not to focus on the way the tight fabric stretched across his hard muscles when he moved, but her eyes were instantly drawn to it. She followed the line of his collar to the lean cords of his neck and the rough stubble along his jaw. Her gaze stopped short when she noticed his amused smirk and arched eyebrow. He’d caught her. At that, she turned her attention back to her coffee and silently cursed herself.

“You need movers,” he persisted. “And a truck. I can get you one.”

Julianne scoffed at the suggestion. This was so typical of the way the last few years had gone. They avoided the big issues in their relationship and ended up quibbling about stupid things like moving trucks. She supposed to others, they seemed like bickering siblings, when in fact they were a grumpy, married couple. “I might need a truck, but I don’t need you to pay for it. I’m capable of handling all that myself.”

“Why won’t you—”

“We’ll discuss it later,” she interrupted. She wasn’t going to argue with him in front of Molly. She eyed her mother, who was casually sipping her coffee and sorting through her mail.

As if she could feel the tension in the room, Molly set down her stack of bills and stood up. “I’m going to go take a shower,” she announced. She took the last sip of her coffee and went upstairs, leaving the two of them alone.

Heath took Molly’s seat with a bowl of cereal in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other. “It’s later.”

“You paying for my movers looks suspicious,” she complained. And it did. She made decent money. She didn’t need someone to handle it for her, especially Heath playing knight in shining armor.

“I wasn’t planning on paying for it. My agency handles the Movers Express account. The CEO owes me a favor. I just have to make a call. Any why is it suspicious? If Wade or Xander offered the same thing, you’d take them up on it without question.”

“Because I understand their motives,” Julianne said.

Heath’s brows went up in surprise. “And what are my motives, Jules? Do you think I’ll demand my rights as a husband in exchange for it? Sex for a moving truck? That’s certainly a new one on me. Shoot. I should have made that part of the deal up front.” His light hazel eyes raked over her, a devious smile curling his lips. He leaned across the table and spoke in a low, seductive tone. “I saw the way you were looking at me just now. It isn’t too late to renegotiate, Jules.”

The heat of his gaze instantly warmed the blood pumping through her veins. He very quickly made her aware of every inch of her body and how she responded to him. She wished he didn’t have that power over her, but the moment she’d looked at him as something more than a friend, it was like a switch had flipped and she hadn’t been able to reverse it. She also hadn’t been able to do anything about the attraction.

“Yes, it is,” she said, dropping her gaze to her coffee mug in the hopes she could suppress her stirring libido. “Way, way too late.”

“Well then, I guess I’m just trying to be nice.”

He made her reluctance to accept his offer seem childish. “Of course,” she said, but a part of her still wondered. There were too many undercurrents running between their every interaction. Whenever Heath was nice to her, whenever he did something for her, she couldn’t help but wonder why. He had every reason to be angry with her. She’d treated him terribly, practically throwing his love back in his face.

On their trip to Europe, they had lain on the grass at the base of the Eiffel Tower and watched the lights twinkling on the hour. There, he’d confessed to her that he had been in love with her since the fourth grade. Swept up in the moment, she told him that she loved him, too. Their relationship had begun in Paris. The marriage started and ended in Gibraltar just three days later. She’d pushed him away for his own good, but he’d never understand that. All he saw was that she turned her back on him and wouldn’t tell him why.

For a while he was angry with her. He didn’t talk to her for their entire freshman year of college. Then he avoided her, doing internships instead of coming home for the summer. Their interactions were short, but polite. It took years, but eventually, he went back to the funny, easygoing Heath she’d always loved.

The light banter and humor covered up their issues, however. They had both been apart for so long, most days it was easy to ignore what happened between them on the graduation trip. But now they were looking at months together. In close quarters.