Husband for Hire

“Gavin Callahan?” she asked, finding her voice.

“Yes. Rebecca Sheridan?” He smiled as he said it, looking into her eyes as if she were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

“Everyone calls me Becca. I apologize for keeping you waiting,” she said, extending her hand, not even startled at the sizzle of electricity when their skin touched. She’d known it would happen.

Just as she knew he was going to be trouble, too.

“I was early,” he said, releasing her hand, which continued to tingle.

“Please come in.” She unlocked her door and preceded him into the space that was even more disastrous than she’d remembered. “I’m sorry about the mess. I got home around midnight from a week in Chicago.” Which accounted for her suitcase and a few other items, but not the piles of magazines, folders and other paperwork that had accumulated on most surfaces.

“I need help, obviously,” she said, smiling apologetically. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“Water’s fine, thanks.”

“I have iced tea, if you’d like.” She opened her refrigerator and looked inside. She’d shopped before going to work this morning. “I picked up some cheese and crackers. Will you join me? I’m starving.” And stalling. Explaining what she wanted him to do wasn’t easy. In fact, it was downright embarrassing.

“Um, sure.” He came up to the bar separating the kitchen from the combination dining and living room. The counter was piled with paperwork. Around the room were a lot of moving boxes, taped shut.

“Did you just move in?” he asked.

“Five months ago,” she said, unwrapping the cheese plate. “I don’t have much spare time. I’m gone more than I’m home, and it’s not unusual for me to work twelve-hour days.”

“Julia didn’t tell me anything about you. What kind of work do you do?” he asked.

“I’m vice president of operations and business development at Umbrella Masters, Inc. It’s a computer cloud company.”

“I have no idea what that means.”

She had to explain what the business was so often, she’d memorized a response, which she recited as she poured two glasses of iced tea. “It’s internet-based computing where our customers don’t have to own the physical infrastructure but can rent usage from a third-party provider. Through the cloud, as it’s called, the customer can use or borrow someone else’s network when they need it rather than buy it themselves. It saves the customers time, money and resources in a big way. It’s a business still in its infancy, but it’s creating serious revenue waves.”

“Do you like it?”

“I love it.” I’m just exhausted all the time. “I’m one of the founders, so the rewards of building some thing from the bottom up have been huge and satisfying.”

“What’d you do on your trip to Chicago?”

She spread some crackers on a plate, setting it on the counter. “Negotiated a contract with a new vendor.”

“Successfully?” He carried the two plates as she took the glasses into the living room to put on the coffee table then sat down on the couch.

“Yes, very successful. Oh! I forgot the grapes.” She started to stand.

“I’ll get them. If you don’t mind?”

“No, that’s fine. Thanks. They need to be washed.” Although she was hungry enough to eat the whole plate of food, she waited for him.

“How do you celebrate a success like that?” he asked from the kitchen, the water running, his voice suddenly seeming far away.

“Maybe with a vacation.” She nestled into the cushions a little and yawned. If she could only close her eyes for just a minute. Just a minute…. “I haven’t gone anywhere in years because we were building the business. I’ve been dreaming about Hawaii….”

Gavin carried the grapes into the living room then noticed her eyes were closed.

He set down the plate. When she didn’t budge, he inched closer. Asleep. She had to be completely worn-out to fall asleep in front of a stranger. He’d been that tired many times in his life. Too many. He resisted the temptation to move her shiny brown hair away from her face, where it had fallen.

Now what?

He carried the plate to the kitchen counter, moved some of her papers to the floor and then snacked a little, feeling like an intruder. After a while he put the remainder in the refrigerator. His hands shoved into his pockets, he looked for a way to pass the time, but for all the stacks of reading material, everything seemed to be about business and computers, subjects that generally started him yawning.

He took out his cell phone and played Flight Control for a while but found he was too distracted by her to concentrate. She’d tucked her arms close to her slender body, as if chilled. He wondered if she needed a blanket over her.

Keeping an eye and ear open, he peeked hesitantly into the first doorway and discovered a bedroom, but it was crammed with boxes. The second door led to the master bedroom, which wasn’t messy at all but lacked furniture. Without unmaking her bed, he didn’t see a blanket, not even a decorative throw. He could go on a hunt, he supposed, but figured she wouldn’t appreciate that.

Framed photographs drew him closer to her dresser. The largest frame held a picture of a couple in their wedding finery from years ago—her parents? There was a small candid shot of a maybe five-year-old Becca with the woman from the wedding photo, both wearing matching dresses. There was a newer shot of Becca seated in a red Ferrari convertible, waving both hands high in the air. Hers? Unlikely, given the cost of the car. Several other photos caught his eye, but he didn’t take the time to look too closely, not wanting to get caught prying.

From all appearances, she seemed to be a successful woman accustomed to life’s comforts, including a loving family. So, why the lie? Obviously she was exhausted, frazzled and disorganized—not endearing traits, at least for him. He liked women who had their act together.

And women who were honest.

She lived on easy street, and now she wanted someone to help her out of a jam she’d gotten herself into. By lying.

He wished he could just leave, but he waited her out. In the end, he needn’t have worried about getting caught peeking. She slept for more than an hour, until the colorful sunset sky was framed by her floor-to-ceiling living-room windows, the view tempting enough to lure him onto the outdoor balcony.

But just then her eyes snapped open. She shoved herself upright, her dark brown gaze homing in on him, looking confused.

“Hungry?” he asked, not waiting for her answer, knowing she was embarrassed. He brought the plate to the coffee table. “I already ate,” he said, setting down an iced tea, as well.

He watched her stare at the food, saw the flush in her cheeks fade as her discomfort eased, then he told her the decision he’d made while she slept.

“I can’t take the job. Good luck to you.”

He went straight to the door.

Chapter Two

“Wait! Please wait.” Feeling gut punched, Becca jumped up to stop him. They hadn’t even had a conversation about the particulars of the job itself, and he was turning it down?

“We haven’t talked yet,” she said.

“I know enough. I can see why you think you need a personal assistant or something,” he said. “But that’s not why you went to At Your Service, is it? I can’t play the part of a doting husband when I’m not. I’m sorry.”

The speed of his departure caught her off guard, as well as his judgmental tone. “You’re here. You could at least hear me out.”

After a moment, he said, “You’re right. I should hear you out. It won’t make me change my mind, Becca, but the floor’s yours.”

He sat at one end of the sofa like a sculpture of the world’s most perfect male, his arm stretched along the back, ankle crossed over one knee.

She should be figuring out what to say to him to change his mind, but instead she wondered how bad her hair looked. She’d had it cut to chin length recently, a style she thought would save her time, but which had ended up taking extra minutes to fix every morning.