Husband for Hire (5 page)

It was a good thing he couldn't spend the night with her. With anyone. Being alone during the night was critical for him.

“The honeymoon suite's available,” one of the drink servers whispered dramatically as she passed by.

Becca stepped back, but was smiling. “Just following orders,” she said to Gavin. “You said I should look like a real wife.”

“A real wife would've put those bills in her purse.”

She laughed. “Well, I'm done here. Are you?”

“That's it? You're not going to play a little longer? You've got luck on your side.”

“I know when to fold 'em.”

He took her hand and headed toward the parking-lot exit. “You seem like a risk taker to me.”

“When the odds are in my favor. I was made VP of operations because I'm a good money manager. I'm expected to keep everyone on budget.” She gripped his hand harder. “Thank you for arranging everything today. And for being such a good sport. I—”

“Becca?”

The two young men who'd stepped in front of Gavin and Becca were poster children for the term
nerd,
with their uncombed hair, T-shirts that looked as if they'd been pulled out of a heap, raggedy jeans and trendy sneakers. One was tall and thin, the other short and stocky. But both had eyes filled with intelligence and curiosity.

When Becca failed to introduce them right away, Gavin introduced himself. He wondered how she felt about being caught holding hands.

“I'm Jacob,” said the tall one.

“Morgan,” said the other. “We work with Becca. Known her since grad school. I've never seen you that dressed up, Bec.”

“We just came from a wedding,” she said. “What are you two up to?”

“We were in a twenty-four-hour poker tournament. Texas hold 'em,” Jacob said.

“How'd you do?” she asked.

They both grinned. “We did okay,” Morgan said. “Chip won big.”

“Our Chip?” She said to Gavin, “He's our president and CEO.”

“Craig's here, too,” Jacob added, looking around. “And—”

“Becca,” a woman called out.

Gavin watched Becca react to a woman with a short black ponytail as she came in fast for a hug.

“This is Suki,” Becca said, looking bemused. “My best friend.”

Others approached. Gavin shook hands, endured speculative looks and enjoyed watching Becca be teased by her coworkers. Everyone looked about the same age. Then he remembered her saying that most of them had met in an MBA program at Wharton, then formed their company right after graduation, all of them moving to Sacramento.

The man called Chip, the head honcho, arrived, apparently the last of their group. He was a little more put together than the others. Although he wore jeans, he'd topped it with a sport coat, and his hair was short and neat.

Gavin had chosen Lake Tahoe over Reno for the fake wedding because Reno was closer to his home town of Chance City, therefore with a much stronger possibility of running into people he knew. He hadn't considered that Becca might come up against a similar situation. Now he felt responsible for the jam she was in.

She gave Chip the same story as she had to the others, that they'd just come from a wedding.

“How come we weren't invited?” Chip asked.

She frowned. “Why would I—”

She stopped when Gavin gripped her hand hard, seeing what she apparently hadn't—Chip was eyeing her wedding band. No one else had noticed.

“It was spur-of-the-moment. My fault,” Gavin said, subtly moving her finger to touch his ring. “I'm old-fashioned. First things first.” Let them make of that what they would, he thought.

“And impatient, apparently,” Chip said as everyone else went quiet, including the woman named Suki. As Becca's best friend, she should've been the most talkative, which made him wonder if she'd been in on today's plan.

“I didn't fight it.” Becca looked at him as if he were the only man in the world.

“Let us buy you dinner,” Chip said, everyone else chiming in.

“They probably want to be alone,” Suki said with a wink, which she followed up with a completely different expression directed at Becca, one Gavin couldn't read.

“Are you taking a honeymoon?” Morgan asked.

“Not yet,” Becca answered. “I've got that deal going with Keller-Magnuson Industries, and Gavin can't get away at the moment, either.”

“Right,” Gavin said.

“What do you do?” Chip asked.

“I'm a doctor. Ob-gyn.”

Everyone's gaze zeroed in on Becca, whose cheeks flushed but who managed a weak smile.

“Well, at least take tomorrow off,” Chip said. “Boss's orders.”

“I can't. The teleconference is scheduled for tomorrow morning. You know they've got other offers. It's our only chance.”

“But maybe you could let her come home early,” Gavin said, trying to look like a romantic newlywed.

“I'll shove her out the door right after the conference.” Chip waved a hand. “Come on, gang. Dinner's on me.”

They said their goodbyes, then Chip turned back. “Maybe you'll be able to get her to slow down a little.”

His words surprised Gavin. He'd figured it was
the business that was driving her to put in such long hours, but Chip seemed to imply otherwise—as if she had a choice and had chosen to put in the extraordinary time. She'd told Gavin that everyone worked long days.

Becca and Gavin went outside to his car, neither of them saying a word until they were settled in and buckled up.

“Ob-gyn, Gavin? Really?”

He held back a grin. “You want me to be able to speak knowledgeably on my profession, don't you?”

“If you'd chosen urology, no one would ask you any questions at all.”

He laughed. “So, Suki is your friend who helped you concoct this wild plan.”

“The one and only.”

“Did she know what we were doing today?”

“
I
didn't even know what we were doing today, remember? I expect to get a call from her any minute—” Her cell phone rang. “No, we didn't really get married,” she said instead of hello.

Gavin listened to Becca's side of the conversation as he drove out of the parking lot and onto the main thoroughfare.

“Yes, I'll take tomorrow afternoon off, but that's all….” She gave Gavin a quick look. “Of course not, Suki. I repeat. We did not get married…. I know, but just because we're wearing rings doesn't mean that…I
agree, he is…. Tuesday, I promise…. Okay, bye.” She ended the call and tucked the phone into her purse.

“You agree I'm what?” he asked.

“I don't want to give you a swelled head.”

He gave her a curious look, wondering if she realized what she'd said. “Aw, come on, Becca. Tell me.”

She sighed. “Okay. She said you're cute.”

He didn't buy it. She was squeezing her hands together, a gesture he was coming to identify with her avoiding telling the truth.

“What did she
really
say, Becca?”

She didn't roll her eyes, but came close to it. “That you're hot, okay? Are you happy now?”

“Well, yeah. That's a whole lot better than being called cute. Babies and puppies are cute. It might complicate things, though.”

“That Suki thinks you're hot? Why?”

He curved his hand over her knee. “Because you agreed with her.”

She grabbed his shirt cuff, moved his hand over to his own leg then dropped it. “Don't get all cocky, Gavin.”

“I'll try not to, but you seem to have that effect on me.”

She finally laughed, as if she'd been holding it in and couldn't for a second longer, the sound spilling from her almost musically. He liked her. A lot. He didn't like lying, but he understood she had what she
considered good reasons. For his part, he tried not to overthink it all.

Something else occurred to him. “Are any of your coworkers in touch with your brothers?”

“No. Wait. Maybe. Chip's been talking to Eric about doing business with us. I didn't ask Chip not to say anything….” She grabbed her cell phone. “No reception now that we're away from town.” She tapped her phone against her chin.

“I can turn around and go back,” Gavin said. “We haven't been on the road that long.”

“It's Sunday. I doubt they would be in touch. I'll call as soon as I get reception. I think we'll be okay.”

Their playful mood shattered, they continued down the mountain a long time until she got enough bars to call. She had to leave a message.

“Hey, Chip. I know this pretty much goes without saying, but of course I want to be the one to tell my brothers about Gavin, so just in case you talk to Eric, don't say anything, okay? Call me when you get this, please. Thanks!”

But by the time Gavin left her loft that evening, Chip hadn't called back. And Becca was a mess.

Gavin wasn't in such great shape himself. He appreciated having something to do, but the roles they were playing hadn't seemed real until he'd had to pretend in front of her friends.

It was late when he drove to his hotel, checked in and unpacked, his mind whirling relentlessly. His
“recent legal problem,” as Julia Swanson had so nicely called it, wasn't really over. Would never be over. Yes, he'd been exonerated, but that was the least of it. Lives had been irrevocably changed—not just his. In fact, his mattered the least. The lawsuit itself didn't weigh on him—the final result for him, for all of them, would've been the same had the legal outcome gone the other way. Only the people mattered, and all the pain everyone endured, would continue to endure.

He doubted himself as a doctor now when he'd been so sure before. So cocksure.

Now he was on the run from dealing with it, and not handling it well.

Except when he was with Becca, who gave him entirely different things to think about. He hadn't figured her out yet, wanted to know what drove her to work so hard. She was the second-highest-ranking employee in her company. No one got that job without doing more than almost everyone else.

She was a puzzle he hoped to solve.

“I
know, I know. I don't look like a happy new bride,” Becca said after opening the door to Gavin the next morning. “I didn't sleep much.”

“From everything you've told me about your brothers, if Chip had called Eric, you would've heard about it by now.” Gavin laid a hand along her face, looking into her eyes. “Worry doesn't help. Bagels do, however.” He held up a large sack. “Bacon, orange juice and coffee, too.”

“I'm not sure I can eat.” Her stomach was full of worry, no matter what Gavin said, but she followed him into the kitchen, grateful for his presence. He made quick work of putting food on plates as she sat at the counter and sipped at her coffee.

“What time is your conference?” he asked.

“Eleven.”

“Are you prepared for it?”

“Pretty much. I do this a couple of times a month. It's fairly standard.” She eyed the plate he set in front of her, picked up a piece of bacon and bit into it. “Good,” she mumbled. “Thanks. What are your plans?”

He sat next to her. “Grocery shopping this morning. And since you'll be home this afternoon, I'll leave some of the paper sorting to when you're here. Fair warning—we're going to be ruthless. When we've winnowed down, we can figure out how many file cabinets you need.”

She swallowed a lump in her throat. She rebelled at her brothers taking care of her, but was finding it easy to let Gavin take over. Maybe she'd reached the end of her rope and was finally acknowledging it. Plus she didn't feel a need to impress him with her competency. He'd known from the moment he walked through her door that she'd lost control of her life at some point.

“I know you pick up food well, but do you cook?” she asked.

“I have survival skills. Figured I'd invest in a cookbook today and give a few things a try. How hard can it be?”

“I guess we'll find out. I do own a fire extinguisher,” she added.

He smiled. “Duly noted.”

“And my brothers have no expectations when it comes to food and me.”

“So you've said. Filling in the blanks here, Becca, it's safe to say they do have expectations about your happiness. They want to know you're being well taken care of, even though you've taken care of yourself just fine. They sound old-fashioned and loving. You asked me to play a role. I don't do anything halfway.”

She wanted to kiss him so much her mouth ached. Since he'd kissed her at the altar, she'd relived the moment over and over.

“Feel better?” he asked.

She blinked. “What?”

He pointed to her empty plate.

“You make me forget my troubles,” she said honestly. Her stomach had relaxed, too, at least for as long as it had taken to eat. “I guess I should get to work. Thank you for breakfast—and the company.”

He followed her to the door. “If you need me, I'm a phone call away.”

The lump in her throat came back. “Thank you,” she said, trying not to let on how his kindness affected her. She could get used to this—to
him
—in a hurry.

Chip was the only one in the office when Becca arrived. She set her briefcase on her desk then waited for him to end his phone call before she went to his office.

“Come in, Becca. Have a seat,” he said, leaning on his elbows. “You look like you had a long night.”

His lack of a smile indicated he wasn't teasing her. “You didn't return my call,” she said.

“No.” He angled back, steepling his fingers at his chin.

“You didn't talk to Eric, did you?”

“I did.”

The air went out of her. “What did—”

“A week ago, Becca. Your brother talked to me a week ago about how you'd eloped, expecting that I already knew. I kept waiting for you to tell me, all of us, but you never did. And now it seems you got married
yesterday.
I don't know what to believe or why it's even happening. This is not the Becca Sheridan I've known all these years.”

She squeezed her hands together, not knowing what to say. He was right. She had no defense.

“We've been friends a long time—all six of us who started this business. Until now, I've never doubted anything about you,” Chip said.

“I have reasons.”

“Are you married?” he asked when she didn't elaborate.

“I'll explain everything, Chip. Soon. I know I'm putting you in a difficult position, because you're also friends with Eric, and you've just started some business deal with him. I'm sorry, but I can't tell you anything more.”

She needed to talk to Gavin. She needed some levelheaded advice. Maybe she needed to come clean with her brothers, not take this ruse one step further.
Of course then they would
really
question her judgment. “In the meantime, please just trust me. It has nothing to do with the business.”

He said nothing for a few long seconds, and then he sighed, the tone one of frustration. “What choice do I have? I'll keep your confidence. For now.” He gestured her toward the door. “You've got a conference to prepare for.”

Becca retreated to her office, shutting the door behind her. She was tempted to call Gavin but didn't. She'd gotten herself into this mess. She needed to get herself out of it.

 

He should've bought the cookbook before grocery shopping, Gavin realized as he thumbed through the collection of recipes. Would've made much more sense that way.

He heard Becca's key in the lock, then the door opened. She looked worse than when she'd left.

“Bad day?” he asked as she set her briefcase by the front door.

“You could say that.” She dropped onto the couch.

“Your conference didn't go well?”

She rubbed her face. “It was fine. I'd be surprised if we don't get the contract, but we won't know for a few days, I imagine.”

He sat on the sofa, not at the opposite end, but closer to the middle. “What happened, Becca?”

“Chip's known for a week that I'd eloped. Eric
brought it up to him, and Chip's been waiting for me to tell him.”

“And then he thought we'd gotten married yesterday,” Gavin said.

“I need to tell my brothers the truth,” she said. “If Chip no longer has faith in my integrity, how do you think my brothers will feel?” She shoved herself up. “It was such a stupid plan.”

“You were being a loving sister. You want them to stop worrying about you. That's not stupid.”

“Or so I'd convinced myself. And look at this place,” she said, gesturing broadly. “Underneath all the boxes and stacks of paper is nothing. I haven't even bothered to furnish it, much less make it a home. I haven't invited anyone here except Suki. Well, a couple of my brothers right after I moved, when I still had an excuse for the boxes. My mother would be horrified at how I'm living. It's a mess.
I'm
a mess.”

“It's cluttered, but it's not dirty,” he said, moving toward her.

“Only because I have a housecleaner once a month! And I'm gone more than I'm home. What does that tell you?” She pressed a hand to her mouth. “Excuse me.” She ran past him, heading toward the master bedroom.

“Becca, stop.” He caught up with her, grabbed her, pulled her into his arms. “Let it out. It's okay. Just let it out.”

She shoved against him halfheartedly then
wrapped her arms around him and cried as if she'd been holding it in for years. Maybe she had been. Maybe this had to do with her parents, too, since she'd said her mother would be horrified at how she was living. He didn't try to shush her, although the sound of her sobs was heartbreaking—and further evidence of long-buried emotion.

She felt good in his arms. Right. And as long as he was being honest—it felt good to be held in return. He hadn't been this close to a woman in a long time, and Becca fit, perfectly. So perfectly that he didn't let go of her after she stopped crying and tucked her face against his neck, her breaths hot and shaky.

“I got you all wet,” she said, not trying to get away from him.

“Careful. I might melt.” He tightened his hold.

She laughed a little then settled again even closer. “Thank you.”

“I'm glad I could help.” He didn't want to let go, either, although they would have to. Any minute now…

 

Becca knew she should move away, but he was rubbing her back up and down, slowly, soothingly. Her muscles turned to mush. She almost fell asleep. Then she remembered why she'd been so wound up to start with. She eased away, went into the kitchen and dampened a paper towel to pat her face.

“I should call Eric and get it over with,” she said. “Tell him the truth.”

“I've been giving that some thought. I feel pretty strongly that you should hold off for now.” Gavin leaned against the counter, watching her. No,
examining
her was a better term for how he was looking at her, as if she was under a microscope. “You made the decision to pretend you were married for certain reasons. Valid or not, it's done. So why don't we just continue on here until the weekend? I can still help you get your place in good shape. We can get your life organized so that you feel good about that. Then you can decide on Saturday what to tell your brothers. Better to do it in person and with all of them at once, anyway, rather than making four phone calls. I don't think you need to rush into a decision.”

He was offering a stall she could rationalize well enough, so she grabbed it. “But what about everyone at work? They all think I'm married—except Chip, who's totally confused about it and kind of angry. And Suki, of course, who knows the truth.”

“Can you ignore the subject with them for the rest of the week?”

“I don't know. Maybe. I've never been in this kind of situation before.”

“I would hope not.” He smiled.

“I mean lying to my friends and family.”

“I know. Why not just tell Chip the truth?”

“And remove all doubt that I've gone over some edge of sanity? No, thanks. I'd rather come up with a plausible explanation when this is over. He'll forgive me.” At least she thought he would.

Gavin pushed away from the counter. “Why don't you change out of your work clothes. I'll fix some sandwiches, then we can get started on your loft.”

“Okay.” She retreated to her bedroom. The mirror reflected her blotchy face and swollen eyes, but she felt pretty good, considering.

Except for the escalating lies…and that attraction to Gavin that kept getting in the way. Starting with how gorgeous he was, moving on to his powers of perception and then his great sense of humor.

She'd met men like him before, men content to live day to day, without plans for their future. They were generally easygoing and likable. But Gavin had the potential for so much more. He was educated and smart—

And it wasn't her problem, not at all. He'd be gone from her life soon, leaving her better for having known him.

Becca changed clothes then went out to join him.

“Lie down,” he said, indicating the sofa.

“Am I about to be psychoanalyzed, Dr. Callahan?” she asked, but doing what he ordered without asking why. She figured he wouldn't answer, anyway.

“Please. We're friends. Call me Sigmund. Now close your eyes.”

Smiling, she did so, then felt something cold being placed on her eyelids.

“Cucumber slices, for the swelling,” he said. “Good thing I went shopping today, hmm?”

She felt instantly soothed and relaxed. “Good boy,” she said as one would say to a puppy.

“Careful.”

She laughed. “I may fall asleep.”

“I seem to have that effect on you.”

She peeled up the cucumber slices and looked at his smiling, caring face. “You might be surprised at the effect you have on me,” she said, then let the slices drop back into place, amazed at her brashness, but not about to apologize for the truth.

She jumped when she felt his hands flatten against the sides of her thighs. Moving his palms in circles, he made his way down her legs, his fingers seeming to come along for the ride, not pressing into her, just sliding along, the heels of his hands doing most of the work. When he reached her feet, he massaged them through her socks, digging his thumbs into all the right places until she moaned.

She should make him stop. At the least she should take off the makeshift eye mask and look at him, but the sensation of darkness, the not knowing what he would do next was too intriguing, too tempting to give up—especially when he moved his competent hands to her shoulders then dragged them down her arms until he reached her hands, giving them the same thorough treatment as her feet.

He let his hands travel back up her arms to her shoulders, kneading them, his fingers working the tight muscles, his palms resting on her chest. If she'd
had much in the way of breasts, he would've been cushioned by that flesh.

“Not much there,” she murmured aloud, continuing to be surprised by what she told him.

“There's plenty.”

She didn't know what to say to that. In truth, she was comfortable with her body, with her small breasts, but she knew men usually preferred…more.

He put his mouth on hers. She hadn't expected it, hadn't felt him drawing near, yet she welcomed it as he moved his lips over hers leisurely, enticingly. His tongue sought entry, but still he kept things slow when what she suddenly wanted was speed and heat, the hunger for him intense.

Too intense. She wasn't ready for this. Not now. Not yet. She didn't want to know what he was like in bed, because she figured he'd be perfection—generous and satisfying, as he was in every other aspect in life. She didn't want to be left with that memory when he walked away.

“Stop,” she whispered. “Please.”

He released her. She lifted the cucumber slices away and looked at him, at his expression that told her little, only that maybe her quick change in mood seemed a little crazy to him. She wanted to share, but she couldn't. Not yet.