Wishing and Hoping

Rayne’s eyebrows rose. “Oh.”

“We’ve been dating, Miss Nosey,” Drew said. Compared to Tia, Rayne looked like somebody’s maiden aunt. Though she wore her hair in a youthful ponytail, her long bangs sloppily brushed the frames of her outdated, oversize glasses. Her too-big blouse billowed over jeans that could have been taken in four inches. “I’ll spell it out for you so you don’t have to speculate in the newspaper.”

“Very funny.”

“It’s not funny the way you’re trying to take attention off the real issues of the election by focusing on Ben’s health.”

“He’s our elected official. He set himself up to have his life scrutinized. Whether or not he can actually do the job is a part of that.”

“He’s done the job for an entire year since his heart attack,” Tia said, joining Drew in defense of her father. “If you or your dad don’t realize he’s perfectly able to keep going then you’re wrong.”

“We don’t think we are,” Rayne said. “We think the town needs a young, enthusiastic mayor and we take the responsibility of the press very seriously.”

“In other words,” Drew countered, “you love making mountains out of molehills.”

Rayne shook her head. “We’re doing what needs to be done. Anytime he wants, Ben can pull out. From our point of view he’s the one who needs to reevaluate.” She sighed and glanced at Tia. Drew noticed the way her face softened with regret as she said, “It was nice to see you.” Then she walked away.

“I get the feeling you and Rayne were friends at some point.”

“We were two outcasts in high school. I was the brainy girl, she was the daughter of the guy who could put your misdeeds in the paper. We were a natural pair.”

She turned and entered the flower shop. Drew followed her, putting his hand on the small of her back, directing her to the counter.

“What can I do for you, Tia, Drew?” Sam Jeffries said, wiping his hands on a white cloth as he approached from the table behind the counter where he had been arranging a huge funeral bouquet.

“We’re getting married in two weeks,” Drew said easily.

Sam grinned. “Well, that’s a surprise.”

Drew only smiled before he said, “Tia’s mom will be handling most of the details, but Tia wanted to take a look around first so she knows what to tell her mother to order.”

“I have catalogues,” Sam said, not missing a beat. “I’ve got everything in here from altar bouquets to the bouquet the bride tosses when she leaves the reception.”

“It’s not going to be much of a reception,” Tia said, taking her cue from Drew and speaking easily, naturally. “Just something small in my parents’ backyard.”

Sam flipped open a huge book. “Let me suggest you sift through these,” he said, pointing at some pictures. “Match what you want as centerpieces or decorations with the flowers in your mother’s gardens and it will be perfect.”

Tia agreed with Sam’s logic, but a strange feeling overwhelmed her as she glanced at the bouquets being held by the brides in the photos. Up until she actually saw these pictures, the wedding was an abstract thing. Planning not to live together except on weekends reinforced that. But knowing there would be a ceremony, that they were taking vows, buying flowers, made it all seem too real.

She was quiet on the drive home, but so was Drew. His face drawn in serious lines, he appeared to be thinking so intently about something that Tia knew he probably wouldn’t hear her if she tried to make conversation. She let her gaze slide down to the sure way he gripped her steering wheel, then to his long legs. If she had thought her car was filled with him on the drive into town, it was even worse now.

Over and over she told herself that the awareness thrumming through her was purely sexual, but she couldn’t help remembering that he was marrying her to protect her dad, his mentor. For as much as he’d tried to make her believe he was a jerk, she kept seeing that he had a soft side and she wished she wouldn’t. Every time she realized how much he was putting himself out for her father, she started seeing the Prince Charming in him again and she didn’t want to. She wanted that to be a lie. A sham. Her own imagination. She did not want him to be nice. She most certainly didn’t want to like him. He’d made himself very clear the day before when he’d told her theirs would not be a real marriage. If she liked him too much, she would end up getting hurt.

She was glad he made the excuse of needing to check in with his hands, and left her to her own devices. She didn’t even care when she saw him get into his truck and drive off. She jumped in her car and drove to her mother’s, where she spent two hours deciding everything from what color her two cousins should wear as bridesmaids to which of their friends and neighbors should be invited.

When she returned to Drew’s house to find it was still empty and there were no messages on his answering machine telling her where he was or when she could expect him back, she told herself she was grateful for his rudeness. It reminded her that he could be a real jerk.

But when another four hours passed without a word from him, that gratitude turned into absolute fury. The idiot had left her alone in his house. A house she didn’t feel at liberty to explore now that she knew he had money. She didn’t know where he was or what he was doing. If he had been in an accident, she didn’t even know to send somebody out searching for him.

When he finally arrived home, she was waiting at the door. “Where were you?”

He bestowed upon her the sort of patient male look that all but locked in her perception that he was a total idiot. “What makes you think I’m supposed to check in with you?”

“I didn’t ask you to check in with me. I’m a guest and you left me without a word. I had no idea where you were. So after I spent two hours planning our wedding with my mother, I sat here waiting for you, and I’m starving.”

“You should have just eaten without me.”

Shooting him daggers with her eyes, she turned and strode into the kitchen. “Very nice of you to tell me now that I can make myself to home.”

“I thought that went without saying, since we’re getting married.” He followed her through the swinging door into the kitchen. “I have the prenup.”

Tia stopped. The prenup. So that’s where he was. Getting the document that put an end to all the worry she had that he might think she was trying to trick him. Once she signed it, he would recognize she didn’t want his money. And she wouldn’t have to walk on eggshells around him anymore.

“Great.” Tia walked to the refrigerator, extracted a bag of rolls and a package of deli meat and took them to the table where he sat. “Where do I sign?”

He handed her the agreement. “Last page.”

“Got a pen?”

“Aren’t you going to read it?”

“Should I?”

“Yes.” His voice was quiet, not at all grouchy or demanding, and she suddenly knew what was going on. Pragmatic Drew wanted her to see he wasn’t cheating her. If nothing else, she always had to give this guy credit for fairness and common sense. Only an idiot signed a legal document without reading it.

“You’re right.”

After making a sandwich, she sat at the table and quickly scanned the agreement, reading exactly what she expected to read: articles that outlined that they would each keep the property that they had when they came into the marriage and not have a claim to anything owned by the other. It was short and simple and Tia almost stopped reading, but the very last paragraph shifted in tone.

She read the article and slammed the prenup on the table. “Very funny.”

“I didn’t put any jokes in there. So you’re going to have to explain which article tickles your funny bone.”

“I told you I didn’t want your money. Yet, this agreement says I get a hundred thousand dollars on signing.”

“The hundred grand is for a house.”

“I have a house!”

“I know. But you said you have a mortgage. And I also realized that though you might make a lot of money in that job of yours in the future, as an employee at the bottom of the ladder you don’t make all that much money now. So, the hundred thousand in the agreement is my share of making sure our baby has a home.”

She considered the gesture for only a second before she said, “I don’t want it.”

“This baby is our responsibility—both of ours.” He said the words gruffly, as if he didn’t want her to make a big deal out of it. “I take my responsibilities seriously.”