Unwrapped (20 page)

At the top Jac found Gomer and the rest of the Trujillo family. Gomer had finished his race for freedom and was licking the kids' faces and making them giggle while their father looked on with a smile.

“Thank you,” Jac said as he handed her the leash. “Patrick would've killed me if I lost his dog.”

“Kill you?” Mr. Trujillo looked worried.

“Umm, no, not kill exactly,” she said. “He'd just be very angry.” She watched as the children stopped playing with the dog and looked around the empty condo with wide eyes.

“Is this our house, Mama?” the little boy asked in an awed voice.

His mother shook her head. “No,
mijo
. This is Mrs. McPherson's house.”

“Actually, I live—” Jac started, but the little boy cut her off.

“But this is the house I asked Santa for.” His eyes looked confused. “And he said he would get it. He promised.”

The father's expression turned sad as he picked up his daughter and ushered his son toward the door. “Not this one. I'm sure Santa has a better one in mind for us.”

As the family trudged down the stairs, a suppressed memory swelled up from the deep recesses of Jac's brain. She'd been five and Bailey ten when they had been evicted from their apartment and forced to live in their mother's beat-up Pontiac until she had gotten another bartending job. Jac could remember how scared she'd felt every night when she and Bailey had huddled together in the backseat while their mother slept in the front. Four walls and a roof, even in a roach-infested apartment, had been better than a car parked in a deserted parking lot.

Making a decision, Jac tugged Gomer and Gilmore down the stairs after the family. Patrick might not kill her for buying new furniture, but he was going to kill her for moving an entire homeless family in next door.

S
o I was right.”

Patrick glanced up from the computer screen to find his sister, Cassie, stepping in the door of the on-site trailer. She wore her usual work boots and jeans, along with a knit hat and ski jacket dusted with snowflakes.

“Right about what?” He closed the webpage he'd been looking at as she pulled off her hat and gave it a shake.

“Mom told me that you got married. Then she made me promise that I wouldn't bug you this week because you'd be spending time with Jacqueline.” She flopped down in the chair in front of his desk. “But I bet Matthew money that you'd be back to work within a couple days.”

“I'm glad I could add to the Sutton dynasty,” he said dryly.

Cassie leaned up, her green eyes filled with concern. “I don't blame you, Paddy. We all know that you were forced into it and your marriage is nothing but a farce.”

Patrick didn't know why his sister's words annoyed him. His marriage was a farce. At least it had been. Now he didn't know what it was. He couldn't figure out the game Jacqueline was playing. For the last couple of nights, she'd been extremely accommodating. And he had to admit that he liked it. Liked it a little too much. Of course, what man wouldn't like coming home from work to a sexy wife with a beer in her hand? Not to mention the home-cooked dinners that had forced Patrick to add a few extra miles to his morning run.

And the sex…it had been amazing. His face heated with embarrassment. At least for him. He still couldn't believe that he'd fallen asleep. He had never left a woman unsatisfied in his life. Last night he'd planned on making it up to her, but then his foreman had called with an emergency, and by the time he'd gotten off the phone, Jacqueline had been sound asleep. Tonight he would turn off his phone. In fact maybe he wouldn't wait for tonight. Maybe he'd leave work early.

He smiled. “Actually, marriage isn't that bad.”

Cassie's eyes widened. “What? Are you saying that you're happy being married to Jacqueline?”

He took a moment to consider the question and was surprised with the answer that came back. Regardless of the havoc Jacqueline had brought to his orderly life, he felt happy. Or maybe because of the havoc, he felt happy. No longer were his thoughts consumed with work and the stress that came with it. Now thoughts of Jacqueline slipped in when he least expected it. Her leaning over to pull a fresh-baked item out of the oven wearing nothing but his flannel shirt. Or her sitting at the breakfast bar enjoying dessert. Or her sleeping curled in the curve of his body. And instead of distracting him, these thoughts made his days more enjoyable—and far less monotonous. Which had Patrick wondering if maybe his Aunt Wheezie had been right all along. Maybe he had needed a wife to balance his life.

Not change it, but just balance it.

“Yes.” He cocked an eyebrow at his sister. “And you shouldn't look so surprised. I thought you wanted me happily married. Which is why you kept trying to fix me up with one of Amy's friends.”

“That was different. I was just giving you an option. I wouldn't have forced you into marriage.”

“Well, Jacqueline didn't force me. It was a conscious decision that I made.”

“Because of the baby?” When he didn't say anything, Cassie rushed on. “I get it, Patrick. You want your child to have two loving parents like we did, but that only works if the mother and father love each other.”

At one time he would've agreed. But after a couple of days of marriage, he'd started to see things differently.

“Maybe my marriage didn't start like yours and James's, but that doesn't make it any less of a marriage.”

Once the words were out, he realized their truth. And for the first time since making the decision to marry Jacqueline, he didn't feel scared, or angry, or confused. He just felt content.

Cassie studied him for a moment. “You're sure?”

“I'm sure.” To prove it he leaned up and clicked open the baby furniture website. “Since you're here, you can help me pick out some baby furniture. I talked to Matthew today, and he and Ellie are getting the baby's room ready, which made me realize that I probably need to get started on a room for Lulu.”

“Lulu?” Cassie looked at him as if he'd lost his mind. “You've already named the baby? And Matthew's baby is only a couple months away, Paddy. You have a good seven months to go.”

“I know, but I like to be prepared.”

“You should try buying a couch first,” she said as she got to her feet and walked around the desk to stand behind him. “I'm surprised that Jacqueline didn't run screaming from your house when she first walked into that man cave.”

Patrick sent her an annoyed look. “It's not that bad. Jacqueline doesn't seem to mind it.”

“Which really worries me. What kind of a woman doesn't want a couch? Or to help pick out baby furniture?”

“I don't think Jacqueline is into shopping as much as cooking.” He clicked on a plain walnut crib. “What do you think about this one?”

Cassie reached over his shoulder and took control of the mouse. “You'll need a bassinet first. I have this one, and it's great. It has these soothing water sounds that all my babies loved. I was so sad when Noel grew out of it.”

Patrick glanced up. “Please don't start crying, Cass. Last time my crew thought it was an air raid siren and ducked for cover. Besides, Noel isn't even one year old yet. You've still got plenty of time to baby him. And if he's grown out of his bassinet, why don't you just give it to me?”

She put the bassinet in the online shopping cart before she answered. “Because I might need it.”

Patrick's eyes widened. “Cassie, please don't tell me that you're pregnant again.”

“Okay”—she stepped back and threw up her hands—“so I'm pregnant again. It's not like it's the end of the world. Things like this just happen, and if anyone should understand that, you should.”

Patrick couldn't help it. He tipped back his head and laughed. “Four kids, Cassie. At the rate you're going, you're going to beat out Mom.”

A smile lit her face. “Not beat her, but maybe join her. After all, five is a perfect number.”

It was funny, but Patrick discovered that he agreed.

After Cassie finished helping him pick out baby furniture, he took her to lunch at a local pub. Over brats and chips, she helped him make a list of things he would need to ask the obstetrician at Jacqueline's first appointment. Once lunch was over, he dropped Cassie off at her SUV and intended to head to another jobsite. Instead he headed home. Not because of Jacqueline, but because it was Friday. And everyone took off early on Friday.

He had just reached downtown when his cell phone rang. He didn't recognize the number, but this time he had no trouble recognizing the voice.

“Hey, Paddy!” Jonesy greeted him with the same enthusiasm that had gotten him voted captain of their college rugby team. “Since I haven't heard from you, I thought I'd check in and sweeten the deal. How about all the fried cheese sticks and hot wings you can eat?”

Patrick laughed. “How could a man refuse that perk?” His smile faded. He'd been putting off calling Jonesy. Now it looked as if he could put it off no longer. “I'm sorry I haven't gotten back with you, Jonesy. I've had a few things come up.”

“I hope the family's okay.”

“Yes. Everyone is fine. I just…got married.”

There was a long pause before Jonesy's bellow of laughter came through the receiver. “You had me going for a second, Paddy. Married? Yeah, right.”

“I'm not kidding, Jonesy. I got married three days ago.”

This time it took a little longer for Jonesy to answer. “I don't know whether to be more pissed off that you didn't invite me to the wedding or that you didn't mention it when I talked with you.”

There was no way to explain things to Jonesy without going into detail, and Patrick wasn't about to do that. So he kept it brief. “It wasn't a big wedding. And you know I've never been good at sharing personal information.”

Jonesy snorted. “That's the truth. I would've never tried to steal a kiss from your sister if you'd mentioned her mean right hook.” He laughed. “Okay, so things aren't going to be as raunchily fun as they were in college. I still want you to build my sports bars. I'm sure that a wife isn't going to change your work ethic.”

Before he'd married, Patrick would've agreed. But now he realized that he wanted his wife to change his work ethic. He didn't want his life to be just about work. And that's exactly what would happen if he started his own company.

“Listen, Jonesy, I can't tell you how much I appreciate the offer,” he said. “But I'm afraid I'm going to have to pass. Not only because I can't leave M&M, but because I want to spend time with my new wife.” Once the words were out, it was like a huge burden had been lifted off Patrick's shoulders.

“Are you sure?” Jonesy asked.

“No,” Patrick answered truthfully. “I'm not sure. There will be days when my father is breathing down my neck and my brothers are annoying the hell out of me that I'll regret my decision, but deep down I know it's the right one.”

“Okay, man,” Jonesy said. “I'm disappointed, but I can't say as I'd want to change my life if I was in your shoes. You always were one lucky bastard. I'll call you next time I'm in town and maybe we can go to dinner. I'd like to meet the woman that finally hooked Patrick McPherson.”

Jacqueline hadn't hooked Patrick. But she'd certainly taken over a part of his brain. As soon as he pulled into his garage, a fantasy took shape, one that included lifting his wife up on the breakfast bar, wrapping those pretty little painted toes around his waist, and sinking deep into her warm, welcoming flesh. Except that when he got to the top of the stairs, he didn't find Jacqueline cooking in the kitchen. His disappointment lasted for only a second. On his big pillow-top mattress, he could take his time making love to her and give her what he should've given her the first time.

But halfway to the stairs, he stopped and slowly turned around. For a second he thought he'd walked into the wrong condo. Not one thing, from the area rug to the red couch, was his. Gone were his desk, beer logos, and pool table; in their place were end tables, framed artwork, and lamps that matched the vase on the huge dining room table. A dining room table that looked like it belonged in Hearst Castle.

All sexual fantasies vanished behind a wall of anger. But before he started yelling, Patrick remembered what Cassie had said. Obviously his sister had been right. Women liked couches. And now that he thought about it, he wouldn't mind cuddling with her on a couch. If they pushed the couch against the wall, it would still fit with his pool table. He glanced around. Where the hell had she put his pool table? Intending to find out, he climbed the stairs. But before he reached the bedroom, her voice drifted out into the hall.

“I'm not kidding you, Gerald. The man has become putty in my hands. And all it took was a couple of my grandma's old recipes and some sweet little old Southern charm. Yes, I actually talk like this. Sort of a mix between Scarlett O'Hara and Paula Deen, but more breathy like my mama when some new loser came to town.” She paused. “Okay, so Patrick isn't a loser. He's just a workaholic who only comes home to eat and sleep. The vampire who gave me multiple orgasms has been replaced with a guy who falls asleep when things are just getting good.” She giggled. “But there's something to be said for spending his money. I spent the morning shopping at the cutest little shops just blocks away, and I found throw pillows for the new couch and coats for the Trujillos, and I couldn't resist buying myself a pair of Jimmy Choos.”

Angry
was too gentle a word to describe how Patrick felt.
Furious
came closer. He strode into the room and found Jacqueline reclining on the bed with the dogs and cats. Two of the cats slept on the pillow next to her, while the other curled up on her lap. The dogs slept at the foot of the bed, completely unconcerned that their master was home. Although Gomer did lift his head briefly before going back to sleep. Patrick got a little more reaction from Jacqueline.

When she saw him, her blue eyes widened. “Gotta go, Geri.” She hung up and set the phone on the nightstand—a nightstand he'd never seen before—then moved the cat and got to her feet. She wore another one of his flannel shirts and bright-blue high heels that made her eye level with him. A hesitant smile lifted the corners of her mouth.

“I didn't expect you home so soon, dear.” She walked toward him, her hips swaying provocatively. “I guess I better get dinner started.” When he didn't move out of the doorway, she cocked her head. “Is something wrong, sugar?”

“Wrong? What could be wrong?” He glanced down at her heels. “New shoes?”

She followed his gaze and tipped her foot to the side. “Aren't they cute? I realize that I really don't have a place to wear them, but I just couldn't resist.”

He stared into those innocent-looking baby blues and tried to keep from wrapping his fingers around her neck. “Where is my pool table?”

“So that's why you look so upset.” She reached out and patted his chest. “Well, there's no need to worry. I didn't sell it. I just put it in the garage.”

“The garage? I didn't see it in the garage.”

She hesitated. “Not our garage. The one in the…empty condo.”

“Matthew's? How did you get in?”

“Umm…well, I sorta had the alarm company come out and reset the code.” She shrugged. “I didn't think you'd mind.”

Anger welled up in Patrick, and pregnant wife or no pregnant wife, there was no pushing it down. “You didn't think I'd mind?” He leaned closer as his voice boomed. “And I guess you didn't think I'd mind when you completely redecorated my house. Or when you manipulate me with food and sex and then call me a loser for falling for your little game.” He jabbed himself in the chest. “I'm not a loser. I'm just an idiot who made a big mistake in marrying you! Now give me the code.”