Caught Between an Oops and a Hard Body (Caught Between series Book 2) (16 page)

Grace dropped onto a chair and pressed her hands against her burning cheeks. “I’m a marriage fraud.”

Sandy snatched another square, popped it into her mouth, and around the mouthful said, “No you’re not. You actually give really great advice. Why I’ve—”

She pressed her lips together and blushed.

Nancy elbowed her sister-in-law. “Tell us your dirty little secret, honey.”

Sandy peered around the patio, which caused the other women to look over their shoulders too, and almost by instinct Grace did the same. Then Sandy leaned forward and grabbed Grace by the upper arm to bring her closer into the little circle.

Despite her reluctance to join them, she didn’t want to be rude. But they weren’t exactly her type of people. Housewives, all three. Well, not Nancy, who co-owned the local insurance office with her husband. Or Leta, who worked part-time in one of the local shops.

No, not her
people
…although truth be told, she really didn’t have
people
.

Or friends.

Or a husband that wanted her more than his next breath.

She leaned in closer, suddenly desperate to be a part of this group of women.

Sandy smiled. “Remember the
Eternally Yours
episode on the top five ways to keep your husband’s attention at home? Well, every night since then, I’ve greeted Harry at the door with a drink in my hand…naked except for the apron I wear while I make his supper.”

Leta’s eyebrows winged up.

Nancy sighed. “So that must make your sex life pretty hot?”

“Hot?” Sandy blinked and squinted up at the sky. “Yeah, sure.”

But she didn’t sound convincing.

Grace took hold of her hand. “I thought you and Harry…the apron and the nakedness.”

“Sandy, is Harry not giving you any?” Nancy drawled.

Sandy glanced toward the golf course, her shoulders slumped, and shook her head. “It worked for the first couple of years after the kids moved out, but now—at first the sex was naughty and explosive and so like when we were first dating. Now, Harry comes through the front door, takes the drink out of my hand, gives me a peck on the cheek, then turns on the satellite to watch Golf TV.”

Three sets of accusing eyes turned toward Grace. She barely stopped herself from squirming. “Why are you looking at me?”

“It’s that course Jim built,” Leta said.

Sandy nodded. “It’s got all our men addicted to the great outdoors.”

“We’ve let them take us for granted for far too long,” Nancy said as she pushed to her feet and started toward the house. “This calls for more than coffee. Where’s your wine, Grace?”

She sighed and gave in to the inevitable. They were here to stay until they got their husbands back. Although there was no need to serve them the good stuff. “Fridge. Glasses are in the cupboard next to it.”

While Nancy toddled off, Sandy leaned forward. “So girls, what’s the plan?”

Silence fell over them again and the downcast looks on her guests’ faces squeezed Grace’s heart.

What were they going to do? The golf course was like a beautiful woman to the men, teasing and taunting.

Nancy returned, popped the cork, filled the glasses, handed one to each woman, then plunked back down on her chair. “So where were we?”

Three expectant gazes fixed on Grace, and without a brilliant idea to wow them with, she went with her regular advice. “You should go home, talk to your husbands, tell them what’s wrong. Work on a solution to solve the problem together. Work as a couple.”

“Already tried and failed.” Nancy made a
pfttt
noise, pulled out a cigarette and lit it, then drawled, “Honey, it’s clear you’re in the same boat as us. Why won’t you admit it?”

The corners of Leta’s mouth turned down. “Worse.”

Sandy leaned forward and patted Grace's hand. “We saw her, Grace. That child was all over Jim. It’s not right.”

Embarrassment flooded Grace's cheeks.

Maybe they were right. It was time to take action.

Out the corner of her eye, she saw Jim on the putting green, sans his little golf slut. But she couldn’t rid herself of the image of that young woman climbing all over him while she pretended to teach him how to golf.

Across from her, Leta fidgeted with the edge of her blouse.

Nancy stubbed the cigarette out in the flower pot next to her chair and pulled out another.

Sandy sighed, turned her attention to the squares, dragged the plate across the table to the spot in front of her, and dived in.

Grace sipped at her wine and realized the women were waiting for her to come up with a plan. All she really wanted to do was climb back into bed, pull the covers up over her head, and hide there for the rest of her life. But she couldn’t disappoint these women any more than she could disappoint her viewers.

She took a huge sip from the wine glass and took the plunge. “Would you like to help me hire a male assistant?”

With a grin, Nancy grabbed the wine bottle and topped up the glasses. “Now you’re talking.”

Grace thought of Jim, eaten alive with jealousy. She’d laugh in his face while she walked into the sunset with her terribly attractive, terribly sexy hired help. Two could play at this game.

She tapped her fingers against the top of the table. “I’ll call the agency and ask them to send over some candidates. The sooner the better.”

Sandy leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Criteria?”

Grace frowned. She hadn’t given this any more thought than getting even with Jim.

Leta jumped to her feet and paced. “He has to be young. Definitely under thirty.”

Nancy’s eyes brightened. “I like that. Very naughty.”

Grace refused to squirm. “Maybe an ex-lifeguard, so he can watch over the people in the pool.” She glanced at the empty pool, then looked back at her companions, refusing to roll her eyes. “He must agree to be on call twenty-four-seven. Since my computer whiz man can’t take the time to fix my computer, I’ll need someone else to do that job too.”

The implication was there for everyone to read.

Sex would be the assistant’s number one priority.

“Handsome,” Leta suggested.

“Someone to make Jim sit up and take notice,” Nancy said.

“Someone who doesn’t mind an older woman,” Sandy added.

“Someone who finds older women attractive,” Leta amended.

“Someone who can satisfy an older woman’s sexual needs,” Nancy said wistfully.

Sandy and Leta nodded and said in unison, “I’d like to find me one of those too.”

Grace studied the three of them and realized that even though they’d all led different professional lives, their personal lives were scarily similar. They needed her as much as she needed them.

She reached into her pocket, pulled out her cell phone, and made the call. When the receptionist picked up, she said, “Hello, I’d like to hire a man.”

The three faces beaming back at her brought her more joy than she’d experienced in…forever.

Two hours later, the first of the first of the first to interview walked onto the patio.

Nancy sat up straight and purred, “Hunka hunka hunka love.”

The potential candidate swaggered onto the cement, all two hundred pounds of tanned hard male muscles and brawn. Around her, Grace heard a collective sigh of satisfaction.

Dressed in a pair of faded jeans that hugged lean hips and a t-shirt that showed off the breadth of his shoulders, the width of his chest, the tautness of his belly, Grace swallowed back her own sigh. Then she raised her gaze to look at his face.

And in a heartbeat, every sexual fantasy she’d had vanished.

He was nothing but a boy. Twenty-five at the most. Only a few years younger than Stone. Somehow the thought of doing him seemed a little bit…too naughty.

He walked onto the deck, his mouth hitched into a reckless grin. “Morning, Ma’am. I’m here to interview for the assistant job.”

If there was one thing Grace hated more than the loss of her own youth, it was the word Ma’am.

Other than that, the boy was perfect for the job.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Mid-morning, Stephanie answered the door and saw the father of her baby looming in the open doorway. He stood there handsome and hunky and hot…three of her top favorite things in a man.

He shifted the weight of his body from one foot to the other, rubbed his palm against the back of his neck, and grimaced. “I’m not exactly sure what the morning after protocol is—”

She gritted her teeth and hissed, “Go away.”

The self-conscious appearance faded and one masculine eyebrow quirked. “Somebody got up on the wrong side of the bed.”

She glanced over her shoulder and lowered her voice. “My mother is here and she’s driving me n—”

A swish on the floor behind her made her snap her mouth shut.

Stone's gaze went past her and he smiled that warm welcome smile that did funny things to her stomach. “Hello, Mrs. G.”

“Stone? Come in, come in. You must have received my message,” her mom exclaimed.

“Message?” Stephanie sent Stone a narrow-eyed look. “What message?”

He grinned down at her. “You mom said she made a batch of my favorite peanut butter cookies for me.”

“And you’re just in time,” Dora said. “I’m about to pull them out of the oven, so they’ll still be warm. I’ll make coffee, then you two can sit down and discuss the plans for the day.”

The stove timer buzzed, and as her mom scurried away, Stephanie reluctantly pulled the door wide open. “How does she know what your favorite cookies are?”

Stone stepped inside. “She doesn’t. I was being polite.”

As he passed by her, she tried to ignore how good he smelled. Why was that, especially when everything else seemed to turn her stomach?

She glared at him. “No still means no, you know. No trying to butter me up with hopes I’ll change my mind.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up and he nudged her aside so he could close the door. “I’m just here to check on how you’re doing this morning.”

“She woke me up to make my bed. How do you think I’m doing? And the scent of those cookies makes me want to throw up all over them.”

He leaned forward and tweaked her nose, pity in his gaze. “Poor baby. What can I do to help?”

Stephanie inhaled another breath of delicious male. She eyed his broad shoulders, then his neck. “Please don’t judge me for doing this.”

Then she stepped forward, wrapped her arms around his waist, and pressed her nose against his neck.

Against her chest, she felt the rumble of his laughter. “What are you doing, gorgeous lady?”

She closed her eyes, breathed deeply, and as the twisted nauseous feeling in her stomach eased, sighed a happy sigh. “You smell so good. And it settles my stomach. I’m not exactly positive, but I think your aftershave or cologne or deodorant is what’s doing the trick.”

Or maybe it’s just you
, she nearly added.

Another chuckle escaped him. He wrapped his arms around her and tucked her close to his body. “What about your mom?”

Some of her grumpiness returned. “She can go stick her nose in my dad’s neck.”

He tunneled his fingers into her hair. “So it looks like you might need me after all.”

“Just till the gagging stage ends.”

“I read it can last through the whole pregnancy.”

“Is that supposed to cheer me up?”

“I’m just saying, you might need me around for more than the sperm donor.”

A scrape on the kitchen floor sounded. Stephanie popped her eyes open and pushed out of Stone's arms just as her mom came around the corner. The Cheshire grin on the older woman’s face warned her that she hadn’t moved fast enough.

“Come,” Dora said. “The coffee is poured. Let’s sit down and get to know each other.”

As Stephanie followed her mom into the kitchen, aware of Stone's large body bringing up the rear, she realized it seemed strange to talk about the pregnancy with him, almost like a real couple. It was…
nice
.

He
was nice.

Maybe
too
nice.

Her heart hiccuped.

Dora passed by the table on the way to the stove. “Sit. I’ll have these cookies on the table in a jiff.”

Stephanie sank onto a chair, and now that she didn’t have her nose buried against Stone's neck, her stomach began to flip-flop again.

Stone leaned over her and whispered in her ear. “Where do you want me to sit? Far away or close?”

In answer, she grabbed a chair, yanked it close, and pulled him down to sit next to her.

His cell phone buzzed. She grabbed him by the shirt sleeve and hissed into his ear, “Please don’t leave me alone with those cookies.”

He pulled the phone out of his pocket, glanced at the screen, and set the device on the table. “I won’t.”

Her mom turned from the stove, her cheeks flushed, her eyes sparkling as she approached the table with a plate of cookies which still steamed with heat from the oven.

Assured he wasn’t going anywhere, Stephanie released her grip on him, leaned slightly closer, and inhaled. He didn’t even so much as look at her, but she saw the crook at the corner of his mouth.

Yeah, the fact that she needed him might improve his mood, but it didn’t do a darn thing for hers. She still felt like crap.

Dora sat across from them, held out the plate to Stone, and he took a cookie, then set it on the plate in front of him.

“These smell delicious, Mrs. G.”

“They’re one of my family’s favorite.” She held the plate out to Stephanie, who shook her head and pushed it away. Her mom tsked. “I know you’ve gained a little weight, honey, but you’re not on a diet, are you?”

“No, of course not, Mom. I’m just not hungry this morning.”

Her mom turned to Stone. “Do you think she needs to diet?”

His hooded gaze turned toward Stephanie, and he raked her body with a look that made her want to fan herself. “Nope, she’s perfect as she is.”

“She has my legs, you know.”

His smile deepened. “I believe you already mentioned that.”

Stephanie grabbed his arm and glared across the table. “Run before she starts measuring you for a tux.”

Her mom frowned, and then her face cleared and she beamed a smile in Stone's direction. “A lawyer is such a reputable profession. I’m surprised some lucky woman hasn’t snaffled you up already. You’re not divorced, are you?”