Page 8 of Wishing for Us


  One even replied enthusiastically, “Any day, anywhere, sweetheart.”

  Mia clapped her hands. “I have just one more question. What word would you use to describe her? And keep it fairly clean, boys.”

  A chorus of voices rang out as Lydia heard, “Hot,” “sexy,” “stunning,” and “beautiful.” Her mind was officially blown, and she barely registered that Mia had resumed her seat and was looking at her expectedly.

  Holding up a hand, the other woman said, “I know you may have the urge to punch me, but I wanted you to see yourself the way others see you. Those men look successful and they’re certainly handsome. I doubt they have a problem picking up women. But they were damn near falling out of their seats at a chance to sing your praises. Trust me, they might have tried to come up with something passably nice to say if they hadn’t found you attractive, but that didn’t happen. They were effusive in their praise, and they were more than interested in asking you out.”

  When Lydia remained skeptical, Mia opened her hand and dropped a stack of cards on the table. Puzzled, Lydia asked, “What are those?”

  Mia gave her a satisfied smirk. “The business card of every dude at the table. Some even wrote down all their numbers so you could reach them anywhere.”

  Lydia’s jaw dropped in shock. She glanced at the nearby table, only to have one good-looking man with beautiful eyes wink at her. She knew she was blushing like an idiot, but strangely, it felt good to be admired. Had she been so tuned out that she hadn’t noticed male attention all of this time? She’d never looked at another man when she was with Brett, and after he died, she certainly had no interest in the opposite sex. She hadn’t realized that somehow she’d translated that lack of interest on her part into some sort of insecurity. She wasn’t interested in dating. Therefore, she wasn’t datable. Wow, when had it gotten to that point?

  This crazy experiment of Mia’s had shown her exactly how twisted her self-perception had become. She wasn’t ready to admit that she was a raving beauty because she certainly didn’t feel that way. But like every woman out there, didn’t she have something that worked for her? A feature that men found attractive. Wasn’t it possible that Jake would desire her? And as Mia had pointed out, did she have anything to lose by letting him know that she certainly was drawn to him. “You’re getting it now, aren’t you?” Mia practically purred in satisfaction. “You have that look that says ‘I am woman, hear me roar.’”

  “I don’t know about that,” Lydia giggled, “but I may possibly concede that I have more to offer than I originally thought.” Schooling her expression into a frown, she added, “Although I’m not condoning your methods, I am strangely happy with the results.”

  Mia held up a hand, patiently waiting for Lydia to give her a high five. With her mouth twitching, Lydia finally gave in when her friend rolled her lips out in an elaborate pout. “Yeah!” Mia crowed. Tossing a look over her shoulders where the men still lingered, she said in an undertone, “Now, let’s get out of here before they follow us back to the office. I’m almost certain I’ve heard the word ‘threesome’ a few times, and I’d hate to knee one of them in the balls since they were so helpful.”

  Lydia got to her feet and hurried after Mia’s departing form. She couldn’t help smiling a little bigger when the men all threw their hands up and waved eagerly as she passed their table. Score one for Mia. Lydia had left the office for lunch feeling hopelessly attracted to Jacob, but resigned to the fact that nothing would ever happen there. Now, even with the possibility that he might still turn her down, but she was determined to give it her best shot. And she owed her newfound confidence to an amazingly outspoken friend and a handful of strangers who’d been kind enough to give her the confidence that she’d hadn’t even realized she’d been missing.

  It’s time to seduce my hubby tonight. Game on, Mr. Hay—game on.

  * * *

  Jake knew it was cowardly, but instead of driving to Chris’s house to talk, he’d asked her to meet him at the country club for lunch. Personally, he’d hated most of the pompous crowd that gravitated toward the place, but he also knew that Chris was less likely to cause a scene among the people whose admiration she so coveted. Know thy enemy. Not a terribly nice thought about the mother of his child, but experience had taught him a tough lesson there. Chris was a born drama queen on her best days, and this wasn’t likely to be one of those.

  He pulled into the parking lot and glanced around until he located her car. He took an available spot a few spaces down and slid out of his truck. She’d obviously decided to head on inside since her vehicle was empty. He was pathetically grateful for the small reprieve before facing her. To say she was going to be livid would be an understatement. Judging by her reaction to meeting Lydia at his house on Sunday, she would probably go postal over the wedding news.

  A big part of him still wondered if he should be going forward with this deception—because that’s what it was. Lydia, out of the goodness of her heart, had agreed to help him, and even though he’d put up some token protests, he’d still jumped at the opportunity. He’d lain awake most of last night thinking about her. He hadn’t been able to get the last time he’d touched her in Vegas out of his head. He wondered what her reaction would be if she knew he’d jacked off to the memory of going down on her for the first time. The sounds of her moans still filled his head. What he wouldn’t give to taste her again.

  “You’re late,” said an annoyed voice. To his chagrin, he jumped as Chris glared down at her watch.

  “Sorry,” he offered, not really meaning it. He’d probably wasted what amounted to a year of his life by now waiting for her when she was late dropping off Casey, so he didn’t feel any remorse for keeping her waiting. The hostess led them to a relatively quiet table in the corner and Jacob automatically held out Chris’s chair for her. They both remained quiet until they’d ordered. He had a burger and she had some kind of salad with the dressing on the side. It reminded him of dinner with Lydia and Casey at Johnny Rockets. He’d been thrilled to see a woman actually eating a hearty meal. He loved her soft curves and womanly figure. Chris was even thinner than she’d been the first time they met, and she’d been too skinny then. Most men would certainly consider her attractive, and apparently, he’d been one of them since he slept with her. But if you looked below the surface, it was all superficial. She was the type that never left the house without being perfectly dressed with flawless makeup. There was no way she’d have been lying on her stomach at an aquarium petting stingrays with her daughter.

  He caught her giving him a calculating look before she carefully schooled her expression. “So what’s the occasion?” she asked casually. “We don’t normally meet alone for a meal.”

  It was then he saw it. She thought she had him. She figured this whole lunch was about him throwing in the towel and caving to her demands. You’re in for such a disappointment, sweetheart. He took a drink of his water and wished belatedly that he’d ordered a beer. Something to be said for liquid courage. Clearing his throat, he began, “I wanted to talk to you today while Casey was in school. She’s seen you and me argue far too much, and I refuse to keep doing it.” He could see by the frown on her face that the importance of his words was sinking in. He wouldn’t have said what he had if he’d been planning to marry her.

  “Get to the point,” she bit out stiffly, looking as if she wouldn’t mind an alcoholic beverage herself.

  Here goes. Brace for impact. “The woman you met at my home yesterday is actually my wife. Lydia and I were married—”

  “What!” she hissed, all color draining from her face. “Your wife? How is that even possible?”

  He winced as she ground her teeth together. She appeared to be approaching apocalyptic levels a lot faster than he’d imagined. People at nearby tables were already darting curious glances their way. Possibly this public meeting hadn’t been a good idea after all. “Lydia is my wife,” he
inserted calmly. “And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t refer to her as a tramp again because I can assure you that she isn’t. I also must insist that you not say things like that around my daughter. You realize that she’s likely repeating that garbage at school, right?”

  “Your wife!” she screeched yet again, bringing the conversations around them to a halt.

  “Chris, lower your voice,” he instructed. “You’re making a spectacle of yourself.”

  “I could give a fuck!” she snapped. “How dare you bring me here and unload something like this on me!” She leaned so far into the table her chest was sitting in her salad plate. He certainly didn’t have the nerve to point that out, though. She’d probably throw the damn thing if he brought it to her attention. “You know what, Jake, I don’t believe you,” she taunted. “I think you’re lying your ass off to get me off your back. What did you think—I’d just say, ‘Well, hey, congratulations to you both. I wish you all the best’?”

  “A guy could hope,” he joked, then wiped the smile quickly off his face when her left eye began twitching. Wow, he’d always known she was tightly strung, but he was ready to call for an exorcist. He was afraid she’d climb on the table at any moment and attempt to stab him with her salad fork. And the profanity, that was another shocker. Obviously, she was fond of the word “tramp,” but the string of curse words she was muttering under her breath were new. As were the insults she was now heaping upon his mother. Holy hell. As he looked around to see the entire place riveted on them, he closed his eyes and took a breath. He had to get her out of here before they called the cops.

  “Christine!” he said harshly. Thankfully, the tone of his voice instantly cut through her tirade, and she paused long enough for him to continue. “If you’ll stop for one moment, you’ll notice that anyone and everyone that you’ve ever wanted to impress are staring at you as if you’ve lost your mind. Now, I’m leaving before we are hauled out of here in handcuffs. I’d suggest that you do the same.” He saw the moment it hit her. Her cheeks turned a vivid shade of red, and she dropped her eyes to the linen tablecloth.

  “You bastard,” she whispered. “This is all your fault. I’ve put six years into you and you go and marry some piece of trash off the street? We could have been a family. But nooo, you had to ruin everything.” Getting to her feet, she glared down at him as she attempted to brush the stain from the mixed greens from her silk top. “You’ll pay for this,” she threatened before turning to stalk off.

  Their waiter came hurrying over as if she’d been waiting for a break in the action. She efficiently picked up the mess that Chris had made without comment. Then she turned to him and raised a brow. “Can I get you anything else, sir?”

  With a snort, he said, “How about a Jack and Coke?”

  She broke her polite expression long enough to smile at him before saying, “That sounds like an excellent idea, sir.”

  A few short moments later, he sat sipping his drink and waiting for the calm it would hopefully bring. If he were an optimistic man, he’d say it was over and he’d gotten the hard part out of the way. But with Chris, he was dearly afraid that he hadn’t really seen anything yet. Tonight, he needed to warn Lydia to beware not only of things that go bump in the night, but also of ex-girlfriends who lose their shit during the daylight hours. Never sleep with anyone crazier than you are. Those were words he had definitely come to regret not living by.

  Chapter Six

  Lydia used the garage remote that Jake had given her that morning along with the house key and alarm code. Within moments, she was parked and walking into her temporary home. She hadn’t been sure what Jake had in mind for their dinner plans, so she’d stopped on the way home and picked up the ingredients for spaghetti—didn’t everyone love pasta? Geez, she hoped he wasn’t on some low-carb eating plan. He certainly had a body that would attest to a careful diet and exercise. Her own curvy figure gave testament to the fact she enjoyed her food and didn’t deprive herself of indulgences as often as she probably should.

  She had changed into a pair of soft yoga pants and a tank top before returning to the kitchen to boil the noodles and make the sauce—which was out of a jar tonight. She did add some extra spices to liven it up a bit.

  Jake walked in the door just as she was plating her food. She noted he looked a bit tired, but otherwise just as delectable as he had that morning. He gave her a smile before removing his suit jacket and draping it over a bar stool. “How was your day?” he asked as he sniffed the air appreciatively. “Wow, that smells amazing. Better than my usual fare.”

  “My day was good,” she replied as she filled another plate for him. She figured since it was just the two of them, they could eat at the bar. “I hope you like spaghetti. It’s nothing fancy, but it sounded good.”

  “Sweetheart, it’s wonderful.” He touched her shoulder as he walked by. “I’ll grab a bottle of wine from the rack. Would you like a glass?”

  Nodding, she said, “Yes, please.” They worked around each other as if they’d been doing it for years, and soon, they’d settled side by side twirling pasta onto their forks. When Jake moaned his approval after his first bite, Lydia felt her body spark to life. What she wouldn’t give to hear him make that sound while they were between the sheets together. Heck, she had heard it before; she’d just been too drunk to appreciate how sexy it sounded.

  Between mouthfuls, he joked, “I’d marry you if we weren’t already hitched. It’s nice to come home to a meal that I didn’t have to cook or place an order for. Thank you for doing this,” he added sincerely.

  “So how was your day?” she asked as she sipped her wine.

  “It sucked,” he deadpanned.

  She blinked rapidly at him, unsure if she’d heard correctly. “Really?” she finally asked when he didn’t elaborate. “Did something happen or was it just one of those days?”

  He took a few more bites of pasta and wiped his mouth with his napkin before turning his chair toward hers. “I had lunch with Chris today and told her the happy news. Let me just say we’re probably not getting a congratulations card in the mail anytime soon. She’d be more likely to egg our house or paper our trees.”

  Lydia choked back the thrill she got at him using the word “our” to focus on what he’d said. “Wow, I’m sorry,” she said simply. “I mean, you didn’t think she’d be happy about it, so why are you surprised?”

  Rubbing his chin, he chuckled dryly. “She went about fifty levels above how I thought she would react, especially in a public place. The country club is probably going to cancel my membership after the show we put on for them. Chris was tossing out profanities faster than a speeding bullet. She involved everyone from the Holy Father to my mother.”

  “Why in the world would you go somewhere like that to talk to her?” Lydia asked in confusion. That was like sitting on a church pew with your cell phone volume turned to high. Was he that naïve to think she wouldn’t show her ugly side in public? Men—they always underestimate a woman scorned.

  “I thought she was less likely to freak out if she was around other social climbers. She’s usually paranoid about her image and trying to be one of the society crowd. I had no idea she’d start frothing at the mouth at the word ‘married.’ Of course, I expected her to be upset, but damn, it was almost like some kind of breakdown. She might not be pleasant most of the time, but this was in a whole new zip code from her usual neighborhood of irritated behavior.” Wincing, he added, “At one point, she told me she’d like to ‘shove my balls up my ass and choke me with them in reverse,’ or something along those lines.”

  Lydia couldn’t help it when she burst out laughing. She could picture Jake sitting there surrounded by people enjoying their lunches while Chris spewed profane and creative insults his way. She would bet he wouldn’t make the mistake of having a public meeting about a touchy subject with her again. Chris must have completely lost it when she’d disc
overed that she wasn’t going to get her way with him, no matter how much she threatened him with his daughter. Looking at Jake sitting just inches away, so damn handsome it should be a sin, she could almost sympathize with the other woman. His thick, dark hair was standing on end in several places as if he’d run his hands through it more than once during the day. His eyes—which reminded her of a vivid blue sky on a summer’s day—were smiling at her, not in the least upset that she’d just been laughing at his painful experience with Chris. And those lips. God, they drove her crazy. They seemed unusually full for a man and so utterly kissable. Heck, she’d thought multiple times about sucking the bottom one into her mouth and—

  “I swear, baby, you need to stop whatever you’re thinking because you’re killing me,” Jake said roughly.

  Busted. From Jake’s pained expression, she figured what she’d been feeling had been written all over her face. Talk about awkward. Did she laugh it off and pretend it had nothing to do with him, even though she might have moaned his name at some point without knowing it? No, surely, she hadn’t been that out of it. A denial was on the tip of her tongue when she remembered her conversation with Mia. Even though she hadn’t planned it, this gave her an opening if she wanted to pursue more of a physical relationship with Jake. And if his reaction was any indication, he wasn’t averse to it. You can do this. The worst that can happen is he says no. Pulling up the proverbial big girl panties, she met his gaze head-on and said, “What if I don’t want to stop?”