The Bachelor's Stand-In Wife. Susan CrosbyЧитать онлайн книгу.
“And went grocery shopping. And made dinner from scratch. And cleaned the house, right?”
“I’m kind of an overachiever.”
“No kidding.” He smiled. “Where’s my dog?”
“Oh! I’m sorry. She’s at the cottage with Hannah.” She should’ve thought about that. She should’ve realized that he would want to see Belle when he got home from work. “I’ll go get her.”
He put his hand on her arm as she started to pass by him but quickly released her. “Belle can stay put for now, although I’m surprised she didn’t hear my car and come running.”
Her heart pitter-pattered at the brief contact. She didn’t need this. She didn’t need this at all. “Belle’s probably shut inside. I could use the intercom.…”
“Are you nervous about something, Valerie?”
“I gave you my word that you wouldn’t know Hannah was here, and the first thing she did was latch on to your dog.”
“I believe it was mutual latching. It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”
Regardless of what he said, she would deal with it as soon as she could. “Do you still want to eat at seven?”
“I think I’ll take a swim and kick back for a while. Would an hour ruin dinner?”
“Not at all.”
He nodded and walked away, grabbing a bottle of beer from the refrigerator on his way out. She turned down the oven, then headed to the cottage. Hannah was watching a movie, with Belle curled up next to her on the sofa.
“Oops,” Hannah said as the dog climbed off the couch without being ordered. They both looked guilty.
“Mr. Falcon is home. Didn’t you hear his car pull in?”
“I heard it.”
“You need to make sure that Belle is let out so she can greet him. He hasn’t seen her much the past few years. He’s really missed her.”
She looked about to argue but said, “Okay.”
“Belle, David’s home.” Valerie held the door open and hoped the dog understood. Her tail wagged slowly as she passed by, as if apologizing. “You’re a good girl,” Valerie said. Belle gave a little bark then hurried off, heading straight for the house and her dog door.
“Am I in trouble?” Hannah asked.
“No. You didn’t know. Now you do, however.” Valerie sat beside her. “I know it’s hard on you, not having any friends yet. And I’ve been so busy all day and ignoring you most of the time.”
“It’s okay, Mom.”
Valerie brushed her daughter’s hair away from her face. It wasn’t okay. Kids needed friends, and it seemed like every time Hannah made a new friend, she and Valerie moved again and Hannah had to start over. Please let this work out, Valerie prayed silently.
She refused to look ahead at the negative possibilities—that David wouldn’t be happy with her work or his business shut down or something.
That he might meet someone, get married and not need her anymore.
If that happened, she vowed there and then not to move out of the area. She would find another job and stay put, let Hannah have a stable life. They’d both earned that. Valerie needed to find some friends herself. She missed having a girlfriend to hang out with.
“When’s dinner, Mom?”
“At seven-thirty. Can you make it that long?”
“Can I go swimming until then?”
“No. Mr. Falcon’s in the pool.”
“Aw, man. I’m tired of watching television.”
Valerie patted her cheek then stood. “Read a book.”
“I’m not that tired.” She grinned.
“He’ll be out of town for a while starting on Sunday. You’ll have plenty of time to swim.” She moved to the door. “I’ll bring our plates here when everything is done.”
“We’re not eating at the house?”
“Hannah, employees don’t eat meals with employers.”
“We did last night.”
“We hadn’t settled in yet, so he invited us. It’s different now.” Valerie closed the door behind her and headed to the house. She glanced at the pool, saw David swimming laps, methodically, rhythmically, his tempo never altering. She looked away as she rushed by, giving him the privacy he’d given her the day before.
In the kitchen Valerie put on a big pot of water for the corn, then went out to the deck to fire up the gas grill. She set the patio table for one, then realized she couldn’t hear him swimming. She looked at the pool in time to see him push himself up and out of the water.
Valerie went still. Water drops glistened off his chest. His swimmer’s body was long and lean and perfectly muscled. There was strength there, enough to pick a woman up and carry her, to hold her close.…
Belle trotted up to him, waited to be petted. He crouched down and scratched behind her ears, and she wagged her tail, rubbing happily against him. Valerie heard him talk to the dog, but couldn’t hear the words.
He stood, toweling his hair, then saw her. She should’ve returned to the kitchen, pretended she wasn’t watching, but she couldn’t make her legs work. He was one beautiful male specimen.…
He looked away first, then knotted his towel at his hips and headed toward the stairs leading to the kitchen. Her face burned. What would he think? That the sexual harassment claimed by the jerk she used to work for was true? That she’d lied? If they didn’t have trust, they had nothing. She was living on his property, would have full access to his home, his computer, the details of his business.
She picked up a grill brush and scrubbed hard at the already clean racks until she knew he’d made his way through the kitchen and she could comfortably return.
Would he say anything? Had she already ruined her future with him?
Her hand shook as she lifted the pot lid to check on the water.
And so the wait for answers began.
David stood under the shower spray, letting the ultramassage setting work magic on his tight shoulders, trying to pound out the image of Valerie watching him. If she weren’t his employee, he would be flattered. She was an attractive woman, both soothing and sexy, a rare combination.
But she worked for him, so now what? Just ignore it? Discuss it so they could deal with the situation before it escalated into something uncomfortable, or even impossible?
Man, he needed a date. If all it took was for Valerie to stare at him for a few seconds—
But maybe he was wrong. Maybe she hadn’t been looking at him. She’d been a good twenty-five feet away, after all. He could’ve read something into it that wasn’t there. Perhaps his ego had gone into overdrive. His body certainly had, which was why he’d wrapped the towel around himself and headed for his bedroom so fast, before she saw how affected he’d been.
He stepped out of the shower, the question still foremost on his mind. What should he do?
The phone rang as he zipped his jeans.
“David? It’s Denise Watson. Just checking in to see how Valerie is working out.”
Hearing the voice of the director of At Your Service made David’s decision for him. He didn’t want to interview any more candidates. He wanted his life settled. And maybe he was wrong, anyway.
“She’s fitting in very