Page 60 of The Work Wife

“Never.” He’d never cheat on Jamie, and their marriage wasn’t even real. How ridiculous was that?

“Parents are supposed to guide us and teach us how to be good people. But sometimes they get it wrong and the way they teach us is by showing us what we don’t want to become. Jamie was only six when I went to get her from her mother’s house. Or shack, rather. I know she remembers some things, but she’s never talked about it much. She’s never touched drugs. She’s seen what it does. I never had to worry about that.”

Weston agreed as Jamie came back to the table, all light and smiles. He hadn’t realized they had that in common. They both moved through their lives with a little piece of themselves missing.

* * * *

Jamie felt as if she’d interrupted some deep conversation when she returned to the table, but both men smiled at her before they nearly launched themselves at the poor waitress to get the check first.

Wes, ever the victor at the check grab, prevailed despite the grumblings of her father.

It was too cold to walk around or show her dad the sights in the dark, so they returned to the apartment.

She snuggled on the sofa between her two favorite guys and fell asleep before the first commercial. It wasn’t a deep sleep. A few times she was brought back to the surface of consciousness when her father or Wes spoke.

It was nice to hear them talking to one another like normal people. Her father had accepted Wes. All those men she’d dated had never had a chance with her father’s strict expectations. But Wes had won him over.

She woke when she felt two strong arms slide under her and lift her off the sofa. The fear of falling caused her to reach out and hold on. When her eyes opened she was clinging to Wes’s neck.

“I’ve got ya. Shh.”

Allowing her head to rest on his shoulder, she enjoyed the ride to the bedroom. Her father pulled back the covers as Wes placed her on the bed and stepped back so her dad could tuck her in.

“Night, Daddy.”

“Night, princess. Sweet dreams.”

At her father’s request she did have sweet dreams.

She dreamt a large, warm man had wrapped her in his arms to keep her safe. When she woke the next time, it was almost two a.m. and Wes’s arm was draped across her hip, her back to his chest. She felt the steady thump of his heart against her shoulder blade.

With a tiny, happy sound she drifted off to sleep again.

The next morning, she and Wes made breakfast together. He’d been right. It was easier if she poured the water into the mix and stirred it together rather than dropping the mix into the water. Wes took care of stirring, so there were no lumps.

Her father sat at the table, seeming to enjoy himself as she and Wes laughed and teased one another.

The day was spent doing nothing, despite her many attempts to come up with something for them to do. Her father was content to just sit and talk with them.

“I don’t need to play the tourist. I came up here to see you. There’s no reason to go out in the cold when we can sit right here where it’s warm.” He nodded toward the propane fireplace in Wes’s living room. She needed to get one for her place. Fire at the flip of a switch is wonderful.

Her father fell asleep on the sofa around eleven. And then again after lunch.

“I don’t like this,” she whispered to Wes while biting her thumbnail. He instinctually batted her hand out of her mouth.

“He’s napping.”

“It’s this whole visit. We just saw him. Why would he need to see me again so soon?”

“I’m guessing he wanted to make sure I didn’t have you chained in my basement.”

“Do you think?”

“I think you’re worrying about something that you don’t need to worry about. Your father would have told you if he was sick. No one would keep something that serious from their only child.”

She let out a breath and nodded. “You’re right. I’m being ridiculous.”

“Of course you are,” Wes teased. For a second it looked like he might reach out to hug her, but he changed course and moved for the refrigerator.