Husband Sit (Husband #1) (23 page)

At
last, the waitress left us alone.

We
stared at each other for the longest time. Then I said, “Fritha told me you
blabbed a lot of personal stuff to her. I assume you want to share that.”

“No.”

At
first, I was shocked, then I thought,
bastard.
Was Fritha easier to talk
to or something? That twisted the jealousy knife, and made me all the more
determined to ditch him. “Then what is it?” I snapped.

He
sucked in a deep, slow breath, his chest rising and falling. Finally he said,
“You’ve made it clear that you don’t want to be with me in a...relationship
way.”

“Correct.”
I willed him to let me off the hook, to say,
Okay, then I’ll leave you
alone.

Instead,
he said, “So I thought I’d ask...if we could be friends.”

I
immediately shook my head, cursing myself for not seeing this coming. I should
have suspected he’d plan something to keep me around and soften me up over
time, weaken my defenses and then lure me into sex when I was even
more
in
love with him. I had to nip this idea in the bud, so I put some disdain in my
voice, “With benefits, I presume?” May as well be nasty. It might end up
putting him off, and it certainly helped me distance myself emotionally.

“No.”
His chest rose and fell. “That will drive me crazy.”

“I
wasn’t offering it,” I snapped. “I was clarifying your proposal before I
refused it. No, thank you. I don’t want to be friends with you.”

He
looked as if he hadn’t expected that. “Then what do you want?”

“Nothing
from you.”

That
hurt him. He pulled back slightly. Not exactly reeling, but clearly struggling
to retain his composure. Unfortunately, his eyes were windows to the pain
inside, and looking at him made me ache up behind my ribs.

“Okay.”
He nodded and seemed to gather himself. “Then what about life? What do you want
out of life?”

I
could have said,
None of your business,
but this might be a good
opportunity to push him away. With luck, my complete focus on money might
disgust him. “Honestly?”

He
nodded, so I started counting off on my fingers. 

“I
want a house of my own.” May as well continue the lie I’d started with Fritha.
“I want to not feel bad about the work I’m doing, because for the first time in
my life I’m earning shitloads. And I want Fritha to stop pressuring me to get
married.”

“She
showed me her bridesmaid dress,” he said, completely straight-faced.

I
stared back at him, open mouthed, as the waitress turned up with our wine. That
gave me thirty seconds to get over my shock that F had bought a dress when I
wasn’t even seeing anyone. Let alone, that she’d showed it to Finn of all
people!

She
would have known better than to show it to me. I’d have told her off, big-time.

When
Finn and I were alone again I said, “She’s been angling to be a bridesmaid for
years,” annoyed that I had to apologize on her behalf.

He
nodded, and then something happened behind his eyes. He watched me for a moment
longer before he said, “She told me she thought you’d end up marrying Doug.”

My
angry pulse slowed with shock.
What the hell?
“What did she say about
Doug?”

“That
everyone likes him. He’s a great guy. You were crazy not to marry him.”

“I
am
crazy. You know that.” I hedged, wondering where his Spanish
Inquisition was going.

His
eyes narrowed even further. “Do you love him? More than you love me?”

“What?”
I tried to put some outrage into my voice. “I’m not going there.”

“Why
not? If you’re going to dump me—”

“I
can’t ‘dump’ someone I was never in a relationship with.”

“You
dumped Doug.” Finn’s voice had a definite edge to it now. “But not before he
had you in his life and his bed for ten years—”

Ten
of the most boring years of my life.

“—and
what did he do to deserve that? What do
I
have to do?” Definitely angry
now.

I
picked up my glass and took a solid slug of wine. I
really
wanted this
conversation to be over.

“Jill?”
He obviously didn’t.

I
shook my head. “I don’t know why Fritha would say those things. Doug is ancient
history. He’s nothing to do with you and me, so I’m not going to talk about
him.”

“I
deserve to know whether you’re renouncing all boyfriends or potential husbands,”
he said, looking suddenly sexy and demanding—a bossy side of Finn I hadn’t seen
before. “Or if it’s just me you’re pushing away.” He leant in and lowered his
voice. “Because if you think I’m going to stand by and let you marry Doug,
you’ve got another thing coming.”

I
blinked at him in surprise. “Marry?
What?
”

He
just glared at me.

“Oh
my God. Are you jealous? Of Doug?”

“Yes.
I am,” he snapped. “If he was standing in front of me I’d...” He glanced away
and frowned. “I don’t know what I’d do. I’m so jealous I can’t think straight.”
He picked up his own glass of wine and drank it all.

All.

I
just sat there watching him and, in my amazement, I couldn’t help smiling.
“Boozehound.”

“You
made me.”

I
actually laughed, and it was so unexpected. One second I was cranky and the
next...I felt so fond
of Finn. He was frankly adorable, particularly
when he was mixed up and angsty.

“Hey.”
I tapped on the table and waited until he looked at me. “If it counts for
anything, I was jealous as hell when you were talking to Katinka at the
airport.”

He
frowned immediately. “I should never have done that. I know it put you off
completely. But there was...There were things I needed to sort out. They’re
done now. I’m separated and filing for divorce.”

My
moment of amusement was suddenly over, and I had to struggle against the lurch
of excitement that one declaration caused. For some reason it was even more
thrilling than
I love you
. Finn was officially available, and I didn’t
want the details of who had broken up with whom. All that mattered was that
they’d broken up, presumably because of me, and that it was a positive thing
for Finn. He was no longer tied to a cheating wife.

“So…”
He straightened again, and waited until he’d caught my eye. “I wanted to date
you if—”

“In
between husband sits?”

He
looked shocked, and shook his head slowly. “That’s not—”

“I’m
not stopping.”

At
least not until I had another fifty grand.

Finn
just stared at me, as if he hadn’t expected that at all. “Because you like it?”

My
mind tracked back to Damien and Simon. No. I hadn’t liked that. I’d had
orgasms, but the emotional fallout had been horrendous. I wasn’t sure how to
answer his question, but luck sent the waitress our way with a notepad and I
snatched up the menu instead.

I
needed something solid in my stomach. And I needed to stop drinking wine or I’d
be babbling, and all my good intentions would go down the drain. I ordered
potato gnocchi in a creamy pumpkin sauce with sparkling water on the side.

When
she was gone, he said, “Or are you just husband sitting so you can save up for
a house?”

I
shook my head, not sure what to say anymore because I was suddenly
very
confused.
We loved each other. He wanted to be with me. I would only be husband sitting
for another five weeks. Could I ask him to wait? Would it work between us? Or
would the taint of how we’d met, of what I’d done—prostitution, admit it—would
that sour things over time? Would he wonder if I could be faithful? Or was he
only attracted to me because he thought I was a dirty girl?

When
I wasn’t really. I was actually quite boring, maybe even as boring as Doug had
been. Brittany was always telling me I was a stay-at-home stick-in-the-mud. If
I tried to settle into a normal suburban life with Finn, would he quickly
realize all the crazy sex stuff had been instigated by other people, not me?
Would he get bored?

“Jill?”

In
desperation, I glanced out the window. “The ocean looks gorgeous.”

“Beautiful.
But tell me, are you putting your earnings into a savings or an investment
account?”

I
turned back to him, frowning. “What do you mean, an investment account?”

He
stared at me for the longest time, then he said, cautiously, “I know about
making money, Jill. I can help you take the ‘salary’ you’re earning and
multiply it. You can have your house sooner.”

I
gave him a Missy Lou look of disapproval. “You just want me to stop fucking
other men.”

“Yes.
I do.” He gave me a cheeky smile. “But I’m far less jealous of them than I am
of Doug.” He reached across and took my hand. “And it’s important to me that
you feel secure, financially and physically.”

His
warm fingers against mine reminded me of how they’d felt sliding over my body,
stroking my clit, and despite the fact that it was a non-sexual gesture, my
pussy clutched on itself as if his fingers were there. I couldn’t think when he
was touching me. Well, I couldn’t think about anything other than sex. So I
disengaged my hand as politely as I could, to concentrate on the conversation.
“A house,” I said, struggling to keep on topic and not start fantasizing about
those fingers and what they could do. “I need a house to feel safe.”

Actually,
I needed Brittany with me to feel safe, to feel like I had my family safe, but
I wasn’t telling him that.

He
leant back in his chair. “I could be your mentor. Is there some business you’d
like to invest in? That’s probably the best way to—”

“A
teahouse in Belandera!” I cut over him, feeling my heart race and having no way
to stop it. “Fritha’s always wanted to run one, with crazy teapots and books
and a reading corner, and fabulous, fabulous tea.”

My
heart was leaping in my throat at the idea that Fritha’s dream might come true.
Could I pay Brittany’s hospital bills
and
finance a business, hopeless
me who couldn’t even buy my own home? Maybe I could keep husband sitting…but
that would mean pushing Finn further away.

I
suddenly wasn’t sure I wanted to do that.

Unaware
of my confusion, he grinned across at me and, honestly, I felt myself swoon. He
was
so
incredibly sexy, with those white teeth against his tanned skin
and those warm green eyes.

I
just wanted to eat him up. But instead I said, “Would it make money?”

“It
might. Fritha certainly has a lot of energy. If she was emotionally invested in
its success, it could be a good vehicle to grow your assets. I could look into
it.”

Would
you?

I
stopped myself saying that, stopped myself wondering what sort of
energy
Fritha
had displayed that so impressed him. Jealousy would only confuse me. I had to
think this through. My stupid heart leapt at the idea of spending more time
with him, and I had to clamp down on that. I had no idea what I was doing. I
could be
very
badly hurt. But Fritha! How elated would she be?

We
stared at each other and I simply couldn’t make my brain work. I was too full
of reckless excitement and surging hormones. Finn was looking at me with those
bedroom eyes, smiling a ‘cat that got the cream’ smile because he finally
thought he had something over me. But dammit, he looked so scrumptious I
couldn’t be mad at him for positioning me right where he wanted me.

Well,
maybe not
right
where he wanted me. I was pretty sure by the sexual heat
he was radiating that he wanted me under him, or over him, or at least
flesh-to-flesh with him.

In
the end, I just said, “Yes. Please look into it.”

“I
could do that tonight.” His gaze turned up the heat. “I’d be prepared to stay
up late—naked in bed with my laptop, right next door to your room...”

Cheeky
bastard
. “Oh
really?”

“Sure.
But tomorrow you’d have to pay me back.”

My
smile faltered.

“By
swimming with me,” he hurried to add. “We’ll call it a consultation. I can
brief you on the feasibility of the idea, but I’ll need some start up
information. How much capital do you have?”

I
shook my head. “Is that cash? How much cash do I have?”

His
smile widened. “You really do need me.”

“I
want you,” I clarified. My body was so ready for him I thought I’d melt onto
the seat. “I don’t need you.”

He
startled me by reaching across the table to put his hand over mine, waking my
body to even more reckless excitement. “I want
you
, Jill,” he said, his
grin wiped away by utter sincerely. “I want you in my bed making me crazy. I
want you in my house spilling wine on my carpet. And I want you making babies
with me so we’ll have someone we can both love together.”