Husband Hunting 101 (16 page)

He dropped his head into his hands and groaned. The g-string was right. But the bridal set and Jenna pregnant... he wasn't ready for that.

The wind suddenly whipped through the window, scattering his papers, and he scrambled to retrieve them, then stuck the drawings of Jenna in his private portfolio and his work sketches into Washburn's file.

Damn. He glanced at his watch. He'd drop off the sketches, then check up on some of his other accounts. Anything to distract him from the woman whose sweet dismissal had jarred his senses like a bad toothache.

Hell, if he didn't think fast she'd probably go ahead with her stupid husband hunting farce and he'd lose her forever.

He'd do whatever he had to in order to keep her from writing him off.

Anything except walk down that aisle...

* * *

"So, how was your class last night?" Angel asked as she scurried into the shop for the afternoon shift.

"I missed it." Jenna gulped a mouthful of coffee and pasted on a bright smile, her eyes riveted to the floor where she and Zack had made love. She'd put the pillows and afghan in the back to take home and replaced them with others, ridiculously afraid that anyone who walked in would know what had happened the night before.

"What gives, Jen? Aren't you feeling well?"

Jenna faced her friend, grateful the lunch crowd had died down and the store was empty. "No, I'm not. I'm in love."

"But that's wonderful." Angel's brown eyes widened.

Jenna shook her head. "No, it's awful."

Angel rubbed her hand in circles over her abdomen. "Oh, no, honey. Not the anti-marriage ad hunk?"

"Uh-huh."

Angel sighed sympathetically, and Jenna couldn't help herself. She fell into her best friend's arms and began to sob.

* * *

Zack paced his office, the phone plastered to his ear, as he waited on Washburn to take his call. Finally, the man answered.

"I love the sketches," Washburn said without preamble. "Meet me in half an hour for drinks at the Blue Ribbon Diner on Third Street and we'll discuss the details."

"Great." Relief filled Zack at the excitement in Washburn's voice. They ended the call, and Zack dashed to his car, anxious to close the deal. Once he had this account, he would have some security. With financial stability, maybe he could concentrate on figuring out how to overcome his fear of commitment.

Then he could keep Jenna from continuing her foolish husband hunt. An idea struck him, and he grinned. Maybe he'd keep her so sated with his lovemaking, she wouldn't be able to even talk or look at another man. At least that could buy him some time.

What if she refuses to sleep with you again?

Panic clawed at him at the thought. But the cool air outside hit him like a breath of hope and he climbed into his car, contemplating how best to broach the subject. A billboard advertising a local restaurant sparked an idea.

He would handle Jenna exactly like he would an account he was trying to land. He'd run a full- fledged campaign with flowers, a romantic singing telegram, maybe even a cute, silly slogan.

He'd been saying no to marriage all along, but maybe he could persuade her to compromise. She could promise not to date anyone else until they resolved the explosive feelings between them. Yes, an exclusive arrangement might just do the trick and tide her over until their feelings played out for each other.

Maybe it would be enough. It
had
to be.

He picked up his cell phone, punched in the number to a local florist and ordered a dozen long- stemmed red roses to be delivered to Jenna's shop with a card that read, "Thanks for a fantasy night."

A few minutes later, he checked his appearance, glad he'd worn his nicest pair of chino slacks and a tie and strolled into the Blue Ribbon Diner. Washburn was sitting at a corner booth already sipping a frosty beer. He waved him over with a wide grin, and Zack relaxed.

You're right on time, young man. I'm glad you could come."

"I'm pleased things are working out, sir." Zack slid into the seat across from Washburn, accepting a mug as Washburn filled it from the pitcher.

"Let's toast and eat first, then we'll discuss the details,"

Zack raised his mug and clinked it with Washburn's, then sipped his beer, determined to remain professional. They ordered the lunch specials, steak and baked potatoes, and Washburn attacked his food the way he attacked everything else, with gusto. Finally, the man finished and wiped his mouth.

"Now, that was a fine meal." He cleared a space, removed the drawings Zack had dropped off from his brief case and opened the file. "You, son, are a genius. I never would have thought of using something like this to sell laundry detergent."

A drawing of some dirty boys dumping their grimy clothes into a washing machine—he thought that was ingenious?

"I must admit I was apprehensive about using a new man, but you seem to have a knack for knowing what sells." Washburn patted the checked tablecloth. "And a face and body like
that
will do it every time."

The kids were cute, but a body? What was Washburn talking about?

Zack's gaze fell to the drawings, and shock bolted through him.

Dear God, he'd given Washburn some of the sketches of Jenna, the first ones he'd drawn of her in the bubblebath! His eyes widened in alarm at the same time he lost his breath.

"Soak your troubles away in a nice bubblebath," Washburn read aloud. "Now, I like that, but I was thinking you might want to punch it up a little."

"But, uh, Mr. Washburn," Zack tried to explain the mishap, but he stumbled over his tongue.

Washburn's eyebrows furrowed. "Maybe,
Crystal White
is as gentle as a bubblebath," Washburn said with a grin. He chugged his drink. "What do you think?"

"No..."

Washburn's glass paused in mid-air.

"I mean, yes, the slogan is fine, but—"

"That face is really appealing, beautiful but down to earth," Washburn said, admiring Jenna's heart-shaped delicate features.

Beautiful and down to earth; that was Jenna.

Zack started to sweat.
Thank heaven, she was covered in bubbles, but what if some of the other sketches had accidentally gotten in there?

His mind raced as he fumbled for an excuse. He could say she was purely fictional, a composite of several women he'd seen, but then if Washburn insisted on using them anyway, Jenna might see them—along with half the U.S. population.

"You think she'll model for a TV commercial?"

"No... I don't think so. In fact, she was just someone I spotted in a crowd. But we can find a real model, I'm sure." He would not have Jenna's face and body plastered all over anybody's ad, much less TV.

"But I want
her,
" Washburn said. "So find her and tell her she can set the price."

Most likely my head on a platter,
Zack thought morosely. The waiter approached with coffee, and Zack reached for the drawings, ready to stuff them back inside so no one else could see. But he lost his balance and nearly tipped out of his seat. Washburn cleared his throat just as the waiter grabbed his chair and steadied him.

"Are you all right, son?" Washburn asked. "Can't handle the beer this early in the day?"

"I'm fine," Zack stuttered as he wiped his forehead. "But I really don't think this lady can pose for us," Zack said. "She probably has her own business, no time, I simply threw this idea in as a suggestion—"

"I don't want an argument," Washburn said, his chubby cheeks growing ruddy. "I want this woman's face in my ad. Now, let's drink to our deal."

Zack swallowed his protests, his mind searching for an alternative plan. He would find a substitute that Washburn would approve of, because he definitely couldn't tell Jenna about the sketches, especially now that they had gotten into the wrong hands.

Not only would she think he'd used her, she would kill him.

* * *

Zack pumped harder, working his legs and arms to a punishing frenzy while he jogged the last mile around the park. He'd called, but Jenna was at her class.

Dammit to hell and back. How could she make love to him, then go out husband hunting?

Because she'd given up on him...

"Slow down, man. What are you doing, trying to kill me?" Mark asked.

Zack sighed and slowed his pace. "Sorry, I've got a lot on my mind."
Like how I'm going to tell Jenna my biggest account, is based on whether or not she wants to pose nude in a bubblebath, and that I've been drawing erotic drawings of her ever since we met.

"What's wrong? Business?" Mark asked. "'Cause if you need a loan—"

"I don't need a loan." Zack stopped mid- track, then jogged over to a park bench and dropped onto it, panting. Mark followed and dropped down beside him.

"I really screwed up," Zack said, dabbing a towel across his sweaty face.

"Don't tell me, it's a woman."

"Worse. Business and a woman." He winced and looked at Mark, well aware Mark wasn't going to like what he had to tell him. Still, he needed advice. He'd belabored the problem all afternoon and was completely brain dead.

"It's Jenna."

Mark clenched his jaw. "I warned you—"

"Just shut up and listen," Zack snapped. "I really care about her, Mark."

That comment silenced Mark quickly.

"Well, man, I never thought I'd see the day."

"Yeah, but I don't know what to do about it."

"Does she know how you feel?"

Zack remembered their intimate night.

Mark must have read his mind because he hissed. "Jesus, you slept with her, didn't you?"

Zack knotted his hands in his lap. "Look, Mark. I didn't trick her or seduce her or anything so don't go off on me, alright."

Mark simply glared at him.

"It just happened. We're both adults, you know."

"And now what?" Mark asked, his face etched in granite.

"Now I'm hung up on her," Zack admitted, wringing the towel in his hands. "And I'm trying to overcome this—you know, this reaction I have every time I think about the big 'C' word."

"Commitment?"

"Yeah."

"Maybe you should see a shrink," Mark suggested.

Zack released an expletive. "That's only half of the problem."

Mark folded his arms. "There's more?"

Zack stood and paced as he explained the situation. "I remember the wind blowing the sketches all over the desk one day and when I stuck them in my briefcase they must have gotten mixed up."

"You are a real piece of work, bro." Mark stood up angrily. "I tell you not to hurt this girl, then you not only take advantage of her but you give clients nude drawings of her."

"I didn't take advantage of her," Zack fumed. "She wanted me, too. And she was covered in bubbles, she wasn't naked."

"Oh, no problem then. I'm sure that'll make her feel better."

Zack's heart sank. "Look, I told you it was a mistake. You think I wanted that man to see those sketches of the woman I'm in love with?"

Mark's dark eyes filled with shock, then slowly a grin split his face. "So, you've finally fallen?"

Zack scrubbed his hand through his hair. "She's driving me crazy."

Mark crossed his arms. "What are you going to do about it?"

Zack sighed in exasperation. "I don't know." The last thing he wanted to do was to hurt Jenna, but no matter how he handled the situation, he'd look like an asshole. "My client insists on having Jenna's face in the ads. If I decline, I'll lose the account."

"You couldn't use those drawings anyway unless she signed a release. You're just going to have to tell her the truth."

Zack draped the towel around his neck, his pulse racing. "About the drawings?"

Mark nodded.

"She'll either think I'm a pervert, an idiot, or that I used her."

"I still think you should be honest. Colleen says it's one of the most important characteristics of a lasting relationship."

And of course, his perfect wife would know. "I suppose you're right." Zack's stomach plummeted.

"Then tell the client 'no' about the sketches and confess your feelings to Jenna," Mark added.

"But there's no way I can tell Jenna how I feel about her if my company's not stable." Besides, he was already feeling nauseous.

"She won't care about the company or how much money you make," Mark said in a quiet voice.

Zack shook his head. "I know. But
I
care. This whole relationship thing is new to me. The last thing I'd want to do is try to make a... a—"

"Commitment," Mark interjected.

"Yeah, I couldn't do that without knowing I could take care of her. I'm going to spend all night trying to design another campaign for Washburn. Then maybe I can ask Jenna to m... m... move in with me."