Having His Child. Amy J. Fetzer

scared he’ll do the same thing his parents did.” Kat filled it in.

      “He wouldn’t, I know him. I know him better than he knows himself.” She sighed. “But there is no convincing him, either, and that has nothing to do with my decision. Luc has his life and I have mine. And while I don’t want him to be angry with me, this is something I want very badly. It’s my life, my choice. I’ve never been that career-minded or I would have used my psychology degree for something more than a love-advice radio show on a country and western station.” She paused to sip her coffee. “Don’t get me wrong. I love my work, and the celebrity status has its perks, but I would give it all up to fall in love with the right man and have babies.” When Katherine simply stared, she added, “Is that so antiquated that I’ve left you speechless?”

      Katherine blinked and swallowed. “I know what you mean,” she said hoarsely.

      Angela leaned over her coffee cup, meeting Kat’s gaze. “I want to be a mom. I want a child. I would rather have a husband who thinks I am the shiznit of all women and a marriage license to prove it, but that’s not a requirement. I am going to have my own family.”

      “I guess coming from such a great pair like your parents, it’s only natural.”

      She shrugged. “That might have something to do with it. Lord knows I love my brothers and sisters and their kids, but it’s not enough. I’m ready to love, Kat. I’m ready.”

      “Ready for what?”

      Both women looked up to find Lucas standing at the kitchen door.

      Angela paled. “Ready for a vacation,” she lied, smiling and wondering how much he’d heard.

      “Well, include me, Ange.” He stepped inside, brushing a kiss to Angela’s cheek, then winking at Katherine. “Hey, Kat. You look great.”

      “Thank you, sugah, nice to hear it from such a handsome devil,” Katherine said, bringing her empty cup to the sink.

      Angela craned her neck to look up at him, recognizing the tension in his features. “Wanna talk about it?”

      “Nah. It’d just tick me off.” He sniffed the air with great exaggeration. “What’s cooking?”

      She stood. “Ahh, so that’s why you stopped by. Begging for a meal, huh?”

      He met her gaze. “I was hoping you’d take pity on me.”

      “I feel so used.”

      “You are about the best cook I know.”

      She went to the stove, then glanced back. “Other than me and my mom, how many women have cooked for you?”

      He thought about that. “None, actually.”

      “Then I guess you’re stuck with my Dad’s daffodil chili, Ryder.” She stirred the chili, turning down the fire.

      “I hope you brought some antacids,” Kat said.

      “I know this doctor who’ll give me some.” He crossed to the stove, staring into the pot. “Feed me, woman, please.”

      She elbowed him aside. “Watch it, buster.”

      She said it with a smile so Lucas knew she wasn’t going to deck him. Not that she could. She was just a little thing, he thought, watching her move around the kitchen. He helped her set the table while Katherine put bread in the oven to toast, but the kitchen was too small for three adults to be moving around so much. Angela handed them both a soda and ordered them out onto the back deck.

      Standing on the deck outside the kitchen, Lucas leaned his rear against the rail and looked at Katherine Davenport. He met her in college and knew her almost as long as he’d known Angela. Though she was only a couple years older than Angela, their sorority mother hen, he used to call her, she was every man’s idea of southern grace: beautiful, poised, her long red hair swept in a twist, her clothes teal-colored and tailored to perfection. There wasn’t an inch of her that wouldn’t drive a man crazy with want nor be put off a little by her austere polish. Luc would bet his salary that she knew exactly which fork to use at a banquet, but then, he’d also seen her skin a rabbit faster than Angela’s dad.

      A widow now, Katherine owned Wife Incorporated, a company of temporary wives-for-hire out of Savannah. Her employees were nannies, housekeepers, help for a widower, wedding consultants, even kid wranglers for busy moms. They were skilled in all those talents that usually came with a marriage license. And the business was a huge success. As he and Kat chatted a bit, a kernel of an idea pushed into his mind. Yet his attention drifted to Angela again and again. He stared at her through the glass doors as she put toasted bread on the table. She looked so cute in cutoffs and a T-shirt, a far cry from the sexy woman in black the other night. The reminder sent a charge of heat through his body, and he knew he needed to pull back from her until he could control his feelings. Until he understood what was going on inside him where she was concerned. Especially when he’d spent that night thinking about Randy Costa’s hands on her, his mouth on hers and around midnight recognized he was actually jealous. It was a dangerous emotion for him to deal with when he’d had command of it since he was a kid. Still, he wondered why he was so hot for her now when he’d been around her most of his life. And he knew it went deeper than just sexual attraction, and he tried to understand, was desperate to understand, why his feelings for her had suddenly changed from best friends to even thinking about something more.

      His gaze swept over Angela as she filled water glasses. He’d thought long and hard about what she’d said the other night, about him dating women that would guarantee a breakup. He admitted that Diane had been less than supportive and couldn’t see that his career meant everything to him. It was everything to him. He was sick of getting his heart broken because they didn’t understand and decided to step back for a while, see what it was inside him that always chose the wrong woman. To see if maybe Angela had been right.

      As if she knew she was on his mind she looked up and smiled. Something hit him hard, dead center in his chest. He smiled back, and knew more than anything that he needed to step back from Angela. He had to quit popping by, bumming meals and griping over his breakups to her.

      “Give me one of your business cards, Kat,” he said, abruptly looking away. He accepted the embossed card, stuffing it in his shirt pocket as he took a sip of soda. He didn’t respond to Kat’s quizzical expression. A wife for hire would have all the benefits of a wife—well, except for one—with none of the heartache, none of the feelings of being trapped. And it would separate him from Angela before he did something really stupid and destroyed the only relationship that had kept him sane for the past fifteen years.

      It was bad enough that she’d turned thirty with all the hoopla of a Christmas parade, thanks to Lucas and her family. Now life was being downright mean. “Is this a cruel joke, Kat?” Angela said into her cell phone as she stood inside Luc’s kitchen.

      “You know me better than that, darlin’. He asked for help a few days ago and you wanted something close by.”

      “Close by, not close to home!”

      “There were no other jobs suited to the time frame you needed,” Katherine said calmly. “This is perfect. Who else knows him better? You can do this without him ever knowing it’s you.”

      Katherine always was the eternal optimist, she thought. “I know, but—” How was she going to explain that being a wife for hire for Lucas was not what she had in mind? But she needed extra money for the procedures.

      “I can get you something else, Angela, but in your area, it might take a while.”

      Angela sighed, glancing around. “At least he’s not a major slob,” she muttered into the phone. “And I know where everything is.”

      “Good, then it will be great pay for little work.”

      Angela agreed and said goodbye, then put her cell phone away. She needed the money and didn’t care where it came from right now.