The Marriage Solution

SBG was a digital animation software company which had been started almost twenty years earlier by Owen Sanderson and Carl Bloom, both MIT graduates. Although the partners had talked about moving the business to Los Angeles, they’d come to realize they could compete with the big corporations on the west coast from their location in Pinehurst.

They were both family men who not only appreciated that their employees had lives outside of the job but insisted upon it. In fact, when Deanna, one of the team leaders, had given birth to her first child last year, the bosses had encouraged her to take whatever time she needed at home with her baby. Then, when she’d made the decision to come back, they’d let her work from home or bring the baby into the office as required when day care was a problem.

Tess hadn’t thought about it much at the time, but now that she was expecting a child of her own, it was a huge relief to know that her employers understood and were sympathetic to the demands of parenthood. She could only hope that the father-to-be would be as considerate and accommodating of her needs.

We should get married.

As if the words hadn’t been surprising enough, the conviction with which he’d spoken them had completely unsettled her. She knew, probably better than anyone, how unyielding Craig could be once he’d made up his mind about something. For some reason, he’d decided marriage was what he wanted. Now she was going to have to convince him there were other alternatives.

She ran a brush through her hair then slipped into her blazer. Maybe if she looked like a together, professional woman she would feel like a together, professional woman when she and Craig discussed their baby’s future. Maybe he would actually listen to her when she offered a more suitable—more reasonable—solution.

She sighed as she zipped her purse. Yeah, and maybe she’d go to bed tonight and wake up to find it was the day after her canceled wedding and she was alone in Craig’s guest room because nothing had happened between them the night before. Except that she wouldn’t really wish that night away even if she could. She might not be looking forward to doing battle with Craig about what was best for their baby, but she wanted this baby. More than anything, she wanted this baby because it meant she would never be alone again.

Her stomach growled, loudly protesting that it had been ignored since it rejected the chicken salad sandwich she’d had for lunch several hours earlier. As she made her way down the hall, her mouth watering in anticipation of the juicy steak Craig had promised her, she noticed the light on in Owen’s office.

She knocked before peeking around the partially open door. “I was just on my—Oh,” she halted her explanation when she realized Owen wasn’t behind his desk and another man was in his office. “I’m sorry. I thought you were Mr. Sanderson.”

“Jared McCabe,” he said, rising to his feet and offering his hand.

“Tess Lucas,” she told him, moving forward to take it and wondering, as she did so, why his name sounded familiar to her.

His gaze narrowed speculatively. “You were the team leader on version four of DirectorPlus.”

DP4 was an easy-to-use software interface utilized by animation directors to control background characters in movies and video games. She nodded in response to his statement even as she wondered how he knew she’d worked on the project—and why she couldn’t make such an easy connection with his name.

“It’s a terrific program,” he said.

“Are you a customer of SB Graphics?”

He smiled. “Potentially.”

“Then you’ll be interested to know that version five is going to be even better,” she promised him.

“I’m counting on it.”

His comment struck her as strange but before she could ask what he meant, Owen stepped into the room.

“Jared, I found—” He stopped in mid-sentence, obviously surprised to see her. “Tess, I didn’t realize you were still here.”

“I was just on my way out and saw your light on,” she said, suddenly feeling uneasy.

“Tess is always the first one in and the last to leave,” Owen told Jared. “And not just a dedicated worker but an incredibly talented one.”

While Tess appreciated the words of praise, she couldn’t help but wonder why her boss thought Jared McCabe would care about her work habits. But now wasn’t the time for her to ask that question, so she only said, “I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Then, to Jared, “It was nice meeting you, Mr. McCabe.”

He smiled again. “It was my pleasure, Ms. Lucas.”

“Enjoy your weekend,” Owen said.

Tess nodded, her mind swirling with questions about the mysterious Mr. McCabe. Then she thought about her upcoming dinner with Craig and remembered she had bigger issues to worry about.

Chapter Three

It was after seven-thirty by the time Tess pulled into the visitor parking lot of Craig’s building but she stayed in her car a few more minutes, psyching herself for the next round with him. She hated the awkwardness between them—hated feeling edgy, irritable, confused. But she knew that wasn’t likely to change until they’d come to an agreement about her pregnancy and his role in their baby’s life.

She also knew that if she was to have any chance of talking Craig out of this crazy marriage idea, she would have to stay calm and focused. She could admit that marriage was an option, but she needed to convince him that there were compelling reasons to disregard that option.

Friendship and chemistry are both solid foundations for a relationship.

She shook her head trying to block out the echo of his words in her mind.

And if we got married, our baby would have a family.

A family was the one thing she’d always wanted and the greatest gift she knew she could give to her child. And Craig knew her well enough to know it was the most tempting thing he could offer.

But if she gave in to temptation, what would it cost? What would a marriage of convenience do to their friendship? How could she risk the solid relationship they had for the illusion of something more?

Tess pushed aside the questions along with her trepidation as she climbed out of the car. She’d asked him to be her friend—she needed to remember that he was the best friend she had and not do anything to screw that up.

She greeted the doorman by name as she made her through the lobby. Nigel responded with a smile and a wave, reaching for the phone to call Craig’s apartment and let him know she was on her way up.

Craig opened the door just as she stepped off the elevator.

“Sorry, I’m later than I expected to be,” she said. “I got caught up with Owen as I was on my way out.” She considered mentioning the odd encounter with the stranger but decided that could wait until later.

“Not a problem,” he said. “I’m a little behind schedule myself because of an impromptu visit from my mother.”

“I’m sorry I missed her,” Tess said, kicking off her shoes inside the entrance before following him into the kitchen.

“No, you’re not.”

She frowned.

“Long story,” he said. “And right now I’m going to put the grill on so we can eat soon.”

“Can I help you with anything?” she asked.

“You can throw the salad together if you want.” He gestured to the ingredients on the counter.

“Okay.” She washed the lettuce and began tearing it into pieces. She’d really hoped that having dinner with Craig tonight would be a step toward getting their relationship back on track, toward the resumption of their friendship. But she couldn’t deny that being alone with him here—for the first time since the night their baby had been conceived—filled her with foreboding.

Truthfully, she was more afraid of her own reactions to him than anything he might say or do. Ever since the night they’d spent together, every little touch sent tingles of awareness through her veins. Even the briefest contact taunted her with the recollection of how it felt to really be touched by him.

She forced the memories aside and began slicing the cucumber with a vengeance. Craig came into the kitchen, picked up the plate of steaks. As he moved past her, she caught the scent of his aftershave. Once familiar and comforting, it was suddenly new and arousing. She brought the knife down hard, as if the action could sever her wayward thoughts—and cut her finger instead.

“Damn!” She stuck her finger in her mouth to staunch the flow of blood.

He set the plate back on the counter with a clatter. “Are you all right?”