The Bachelor's Stand-In Wife. Susan Crosby
David breezed into the room. He’d changed from slacks and a dress shirt to jeans and a T-shirt, and was barefoot. Belle trailed him. Valerie wondered how old David was. Thirty?
“Settled in?” he asked.
“Almost. We haven’t put everything away, but it’s all in the house,” Valerie answered, keeping a hand on Hannah’s shoulder so that she wouldn’t run to Belle, who wagged her tail in greeting.
“The stove’s preheated,” David said. “Shouldn’t take too long. I hope you like pepperoni.” He slid a large pizza into the oven. “How about a tour while it heats.”
“That would be great.”
The inside of the house was as stunning as the outside. It was a man’s home, but a classy one, the environment clearly of someone who liked art and color, who had style. Maybe a decorator should get credit, but David would have had to approve everything purchased, so he must’ve had a hand in the final result in some way.
On the first floor was a living room with a stone fireplace, a family room holding a woodstove that piped heat into the rest of the house, a large dining room with a table and chairs for twelve, an office and a powder room. Upstairs were four bedrooms, two baths and the master suite, with its enormous bed and spectacular view, the same as in the kitchen, of the pool and mountains, even the cottage. Heavy green drapes framed the windows. She wondered how often he shut them.
She wondered, too, how often he had company. Female company. He was an attractive and successful man. Did he have a regular girlfriend?
“It’s an incredible home,” she said to him, having given up on keeping Hannah by her side. She and Belle had teamed up, following at their own pace. “Although a lot of house for one person.”
“I spend much of my life in airplanes and hotel rooms. I need a place to spread out.”
“How long have you lived here?”
“Had it built five years ago.”
They headed out the bedroom door and downstairs. Valerie motioned to Hannah, who played on the landing with Belle, tossing the dog’s rag doll, then throwing it again after Belle brought it back.
“How much are you gone?” she asked.
“At least half the month. My oldest brother, Noah, and I have owned the business for eleven years. We used to share the overseas work, but Noah’s wife died three years ago, and now he has their four children to take care of.” They reached the bottom of the staircase, which faced a wall of family photos. He pointed to a photo of a man and woman with four children. “He’s needed to be with them, I understand that, so I’ve been doing all the traveling. But someday I hope we can split the work again. I’m also trying to figure out ways to do less overseas and more here in the States.”
Valerie heard frustration in his voice. Or maybe weariness. “How old are the children?”
“He has two sets of twins, as you can see. Ashley and Zoe are twelve. Adam and Zachary are nine. They’re…very well behaved.”
Valerie wondered why he said that as if it was a bad thing. “You said he was your oldest brother. You have others?”
“One, Gideon.” He tapped a photo. “He’s the middle child.”
“Your parents like biblical names,” she said with a smile.
“Our father did.”
The man in the picture he pointed to resembled Noah most of all, but she could see David in him, too.
“We have different mothers. This one’s mine,” he went on to say, moving to the photo of a young woman, the picture probably taken twenty years ago, given her hairstyle.
“Do you want to eat in the kitchen or on the deck?” he asked in a quick change of subject.
“The deck,” Hannah said, focused on the photographs, apparently fascinated. Then she caught Valerie’s pointed look. “Please,” she added.
“You got it. I’ll cut the pizza into slices. There’s a salad in the refrigerator. Paper plates and napkins are in the cupboard next to the sink,” he said.
They settled around a table on the deck overlooking the backyard. Belle curled up at their feet.
“If you had the house built,” Valerie said, “then you also had the stables put in. Do you plan to get a horse?”
“It’s a dream. I’m not here enough.”
“Do you know how to ride?”
He grinned. “Nope.”
“Then why…?”
“Wide-open spaces.”
Valerie was beginning to understand him. He needed space but felt hemmed in by his work. He must feel handcuffed or something. And resentful? she wondered.
“What grade are you in?” David asked Hannah.
“Third.”
“Do you like school?”
“It’s okay.”
Valerie sympathized with her daughter. She’d attended three different schools in her short life. It was another reason for making sure she kept her job—she wanted Hannah to have the luxury of staying at one school and making long-term friends. Living a normal childhood, if Valerie could make that happen.
She wondered about David’s childhood, if, having different mothers, he and his brothers were raised together. Maybe they weren’t close in age. As an only child, Valerie had desperately wanted siblings, but her father had divorced her mother when Valerie was a toddler and had rarely contacted Valerie since. As far as she knew, he hadn’t fathered more children.
When they were done eating, Valerie stacked the paper plates and started to stand.
“I’ll take care of that later,” David said, then pointed toward the floor under the table. Hannah had joined Belle and was now asleep against the dog, who looked at David but didn’t make a move to get up.
“We might as well go over your duties,” he said. “I’ve written them up for you. Be right back.”
“What a good dog you are,” Valerie said to Belle, petting her. Belle closed her eyes, making a happy sound.
David returned, taking the seat next to instead of across from her. He set a piece of paper on the table between them so they both could read it. She was aware of him, of his arm almost touching hers. He hadn’t stepped over any line at any time, either with comments or looks, in fact had gone out of his way not to look at her at the pool until she’d wrapped the towel around her, covering her bathing suit. Not interested? She knew it was better that way, but—
“You’re probably worried about working at the house during the night, and leaving Hannah on her own at the cottage,” he said. “There’s an intercom system between the houses. You’ll be able to hear everything that happens in the cottage—or vice versa, if necessary. You just have to set the buttons. There’s also an alarm. I’ve never had problems here, but I know it’ll probably make a city girl like you feel more comfortable.”
“Okay, good.”
He went down his itemized list, explaining each of her duties. He would make his own breakfast but preferred she prepare his dinner. He was rarely home at lunchtime, so they would play that by ear on the occasions he stayed home. Valerie and Hannah could use the pool and patio anytime except when he was entertaining, and then he expected privacy, unless he asked for something.
Privacy for women friends? Valerie wondered. Probably.
“I know how to serve a household,” she said. “And Hannah will know to stay in the cottage.”
“She’s not to work in my house,” he said decisively. “I know your mother allowed it, but