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Authors: Elley Arden

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BOOK: Marrying the Wrong Man
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She was going to need a lot more than one night off if the phone interview she’d agreed to after talking with Mr. Berger resulted in a trip to Denver.

“Hello.” Charlie’s gravelly voice hinted at sleep.

“Did I wake you?”

“It’s no big deal. I was up late working on the house.”

Maybe that’s why he’d never shown up or called yesterday. She hoped. Because the longer she went without seeing him, the harder it was to convince herself they could act like nothing had happened between them in his office.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“Aunt Phyllis is sick. She can’t watch Charlotte, so I have to call off.” Her stomach tossed like she was in Connecticut all over again.

He sighed. “You know, Hannah’s going to quit again if I try to put her on the tables, and Corbin can’t serve everyone. Maybe Alice could watch Charlotte.”

“Nope.”
Alice Cramer Mitchell is not getting six unsupervised hours to poison my daughter against me.

“You and my sister need to get over your issues, so my daughter can get to know all of her family.”

Morgan could do without Charlotte knowing that part. “Does Alice even know how to take care of a toddler?”

“Did Aunt Phyllis before you showed up?”

A low growl gurgled in her throat. He had a point. “I don’t know, Charlie.”

“I need you at the restaurant. If Charlotte were sick, it would be a different story. But she’s not, and Alice is not a mass murderer. She’s perfectly capable of taking care of a child.”

Morgan didn’t know how to argue that. Charlotte wasn’t sick. Alice wasn’t a murderer. And Charlie
needed
her. Her neck warmed. That sounded so good. It probably shouldn’t
feel
this good, though. Not if they were supposed to be pretending like nothing ever happened. “You don’t even know if Alice is available tonight.”

“I’ll call her.”

“Fine.”

With any luck, Alice would be busy.

Five hours later, Morgan pulled into the last place on earth she ever thought she’d be: her ex-fiancé’s driveway.
At least Justin was still at work,
she told herself as she glanced in the rearview mirror at a sleeping Charlotte. She didn’t want to face him again after he’d turned down her request for a job and she’d been the reason he was kicked out of the bistro.

Seeing Alice after all that was bad enough.

Speaking of the devil … the front door opened, and Alice stepped onto the porch.

Morgan took a deep breath. She could do this. Charlie needed her at the restaurant, and Charlotte needed to spend time with her aunt.
Don’t be selfish.
“Time to wake up, sweetie.”

Pushing out of the car, Morgan nodded at Alice, but a smile wouldn’t form. “Thank you for agreeing to this.”

“I’m here when Charlie needs me.”

Hmm.
How was she supposed to take that comment? Was it a dig at Morgan for leaving town and refusing to see Charlie when he followed? Was it a reminder that Alice was doing this for him and not Morgan? She opened her mouth to challenge Alice, but snapped it shut instead.

Quit looking for something to fight about.
She hoisted a sleepy Charlotte onto her shoulder, and started the painful march toward Justin and Alice’s front porch.

“You can lay her on the guest bed if you think she’ll stay sleeping for a bit.” Alice held the screen door open.

Charlotte’s head popped up.

“Hey, angel,” Alice cooed. “Oh my God, aren’t you sweet! She does look like me.”

Morgan bit her tongue—for Charlotte’s sake … for Charlie’s sake, too.

This being unselfish thing wasn’t easy.

“We’re going to have so much fun.” Alice clapped. “We’re going to sing and dance and play dress ups. She’s too young for makeup, right?”

“Way too young.”

“Gog,” Charlotte yelled as she opened and closed her hand toward the screen door, where Alice’s dog, Mouse, stood. “Me see gog.”

Forget the makeup. Charlotte wouldn’t need anything but Mouse to have a good time. “She’s very fond of animals.”

Alice kept her overly enthusiastic face trained on Charlotte. “Mouse is the best doggy ever. Come to Auntie Alice and we’ll go say hi.”

“Me see gog,” Charlotte said again, practically jumping from Morgan’s arms to Alice’s.

Ugh. That hurt, even though the show of enthusiasm was more for the dog than for Alice. She followed Alice up the steps and set the diaper bag in the foyer, uncomfortable in her surroundings.

Charlotte and Mouse got acquainted in the spotless, impeccably decorated living room. This place was going to be a mess by the time Charlotte was through. Morgan smiled.

“I’ll be back for her around ten, maybe earlier.” The dog was only going to keep Charlotte distracted for so long. Eventually she was going to realize she was in a strange place with a strange lady, and mama was nowhere around. “Charlie said we’ll see how it goes, and I might be able to shorten my shift. Of course, if you need me before then, just call.”

“She’ll be fine.” Alice stared at Morgan, and for a second it seemed like she had something more to say, but then she nodded and squatted beside Charlotte and Mouse. “Tell Mama ‘See ya later.’”

After a few tears, Morgan slipped out of the house, leaving her daughter behind. She hoped she wouldn’t regret this.

• • •

Charlie looked up from the paper products order form when he heard the alley door open and close.
Morgan.
Corbin and Hannah were already in the dining room, setting up for service, so who else would it be?

His pulse kicked up.
Ask about Charlotte—nothing more.
Because nothing more was supposed to have happened.

It took longer than he expected for her shadow to darken the hallway, and when she walked by, it was practically a sprint.

“Hey.” He stood.

“Yeah?” She stayed somewhere down the hall.

“Can you come in here?”

Silence.

Maybe he should’ve gone out there to make it “less weird.” Charlie shook his head and stepped toward the door. He’d never been any good at playing games like this.

She appeared. “What’s up?”

“How’d it go with Charlotte and Alice?”

“Good.” Her pretty face reddened as she looked around the room behind him. “I’m actually surprised it went so well.” Her gaze settled on him. “Either Alice and I have matured
a lot
, or you threatened to burn down her theater.”

He chuckled. “I didn’t threaten her. I asked nicely.”

“Ooh! Now look who’s maturing.” She grinned. “I always knew you had it in you, Charlie Cramer.”

He flashed a not-so-innocent smile, and—
zap!
—something hot and strong laced the air between them.

She must’ve felt it, too, because she stepped back. “I should go. Help Corbin and Hannah.”

She was going to pretend like nothing happened there, too.

“Hold on.” He grabbed her wrist, and she froze. “This is not working for me.”

“What isn’t?” she whispered.

He let her go and stepped back into his office, crooking his finger. “Come in here and close the door.”

Her eyes rounded, but then her lips twitched. “Ask me nicely.”

“Please.”

Morgan followed him into the office, but she kept her back glued to the closed door. “Charlie, I want you … ”

He raised a hand to cut her off. “I like that sentence.”

She gave him a cocky look. “There was more to that sentence.”

“There doesn’t need to be.” He stepped forward, touching the tips of his boots to the tips of her shiny black shoes, and then he leaned in until their bodies brushed. “I can’t pretend like nothing is happening.”

“Me neither.” She wrapped her arms around him and covered his mouth with hers.

Immediately, the door shook on a knock, and they broke apart. “Chef, the produce delivery guy is here.”

“I’ll be right there,” Charlie called.

“Okay. Should I call Morgan? She’s late.”

Morgan covered her mouth as Charlie smirked and tucked a hand between her legs, slowly drawing his thumb over her core with firm pressure.

He barely held in a chuckle. “Nope. I’m sure she’s coming.”

“You are so bad,” she whispered.

He bobbed his eyebrows and kissed her again.

Fifteen minutes later and behind on dinner prep, Charlie realized his escarole order was filled with kale instead.

Are you kidding me?
He stabbed a knife into a cutting block just as Hannah walked into the kitchen. “Get me Furhman’s Farm and Market on the fucking phone right now.”

The teen looked scared to death.

“I’ll do it.” Morgan appeared behind Hannah and patted her on the back. She tossed a raised-brow look at Charlie after Hannah walked away. “That poor girl just wanted to use the bathroom.”

“Well, I just wanted escarole.” He shook a bunch of kale. “You tell him I never agreed to substitutions.”

She rolled her eyes. “Where’s the phone number?”

“On the order form on my desk.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

And she did.

Twenty minutes later a hulking blonde kid dropped off escarole.

“He said his dad said you can keep the kale,” Morgan said. “Oh, and your next order is half off.”

Charlie checked to make sure it was escarole, first, and then he smiled at her. “Thanks. Moe would’ve told me to go to hell.”

She smiled back. “That’s because you would’ve called him a bastard.”

“Probably. I don’t know want happens to me, but when something goes wrong around here, I freak. I hate dealing with the business crap. I just want to cook.”

“Well, I like it. Spreadsheets and conversation sort of turn me on.” She winked.

Hot damn!
“I got a shitload of spreadsheets in my office. Have at ‘em.”

“Maybe I will. Maybe I’ll start coming in early.”

She left him with the biggest smile on his face.

Three hours later, with things finally back on track, she walked into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and bent over to reach the bottom shelf. That ass. It was going to get him into trouble again.

She caught him staring as she straightened. “What are you looking at, Chef?”

“Some mighty fine rump roast.”


That
was cheesy.”

He couldn’t stop laughing.

When he finally turned his attention back to the salmon he’d been searing, it was black.
Shit.
Charlie threw the pan, complete with ruined fish, into the sink, making a horrible racket.

“Whoa. Is everything okay?” Corbin grabbed two plates from the warming rack.

“It’s fine. She just needs to stay the hell out of the kitchen.” But he didn’t mean it. “I’m easily distractible when she’s around. I need to work on that.” He grinned.

Corbin’s jaw dropped.

“What?”

“You’re smiling … in the kitchen.” He glanced at the roof. “Is the sky falling?”

“Out, smart ass.”

By nine o’clock, things had slowed down. One more table to serve, and it wasn’t Morgan’s.

Standing at the stove, Charlie couldn’t see her, but he could hear the clanging of dirty dishes as she placed them in the holding sink. As much as he wanted her here after closing, her mind was elsewhere. “You should go. I know you’re worried about Charlotte.”

“I’m not worried. I’m … Okay, I’m a little worried.”

He glanced over his shoulder and saw she’d moved closer to him. “Go. Corbin, Hannah, and I can handle things from here.”

“Thank you.” A rush of warm air hit his back before he felt her body brush against his. Her lips landed just below his ear. “Good night.”

He needed a cold shower—and maybe one of those dorky aprons that read “Kiss the Cook.” Because he sure as hell could get used to “thank yous” and “good nights” like that.

• • •

Pulling into Alice and Justin’s driveway should’ve been easier the second time around. But the luxury car parked on the far side of the pavement had her throat closing. Justin was here.

But Charlotte was here, too.
That
was what mattered.

Tonight had been her best night at the bistro, and she wasn’t going to squander her good mood because she was too afraid to face her past.
Be brave.

Justin met her at the door, pushing open the screen. “Everywhere I go, there you are.” He didn’t look happy about it, but still he stepped aside and waved her in.

“I’m sorry about that.” She was starting to feel like a broken record. “My aunt is sick, and I didn’t have anywhere else to turn.”

He shook his head. “Question: had I gone through with the wedding were you going to pass her off as mine?”

She flinched. She’d asked herself that question a million times. “I don’t know what I would’ve done. Thank God it didn’t come to that.”

Justin had never been the kind of guy who lost his cool, and despite her answer that didn’t happen now. He just sort of stood there glaring at her, but whatever he was thinking stayed locked inside. “She’s sleeping in the family room on the couch.” He turned and walked away.

Was she supposed to follow? She waited a few beats before she headed off in the same direction.

“We put cushions on the floor in case she rolled. Plus, I’ve been sitting on the floor in front of her watching the ball game for the last hour.”

Her heart pinched. He wasn’t at all comfortable with this situation, but he was trying. “Thank you,” she said.

He shrugged. “She’s an easy kid.”

“She is, but, I know it can’t be easy to have her here—or me for that matter.”

He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I might not trust you or like what you did, but it doesn’t make sense to punish a child.” He pointed to the couch. “She’s my niece. And her father is my friend.”

Charlotte’s chubby cheek squished against a flannel sheet someone had laid beneath her.

Morgan blinked back tears. He was right. Charlotte didn’t deserve to be punished for any of this. She deserved the best life Morgan could give. “She’s out cold.”

“And I’m about to follow.” Alice appeared at the mouth of the hallway, wearing pink, men’s style pajamas. “We played like crazy. Danced like maniacs.” Sans the usual layers of makeup and with a headband pulling her curls away from her face, she looked sweet. Certainly less bitchy than she’d always been toward Morgan.

BOOK: Marrying the Wrong Man
5.25Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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