The Perfect Wife. Judy Duarte

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The Perfect Wife - Judy Duarte Mills & Boon Vintage Cherish

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long time ago.

      He’d just purchased a piece of property where he would build a custom home for himself and the big family he hoped to someday have—all boys, if he had anything to say about it.

      Of course, he’d need to find a wife first. But not just any wife.

      Bo wanted a woman who would be not only his lover, but his best friend and a committed partner in life. Someone like him who would be willing to work hard and make a marriage work. A team player who would go the extra distance and wouldn’t see divorce as an option.

      Over the years, Bo had met plenty of women who seemed to be ready to settle down. But they usually lost interest when they found out he wasn’t a suit-and-tie kind of guy, a man they could mold into someone else.

      But he wasn’t in any hurry. He’d find the right woman someday.

      Still, he couldn’t help feeling sorry for Carly. Or feeling as though he ought to reach out to her, offer a few suggestions. Give her some insight into what might have gone wrong in her marriage.

      She’d have to ask, though.

      And that wasn’t likely. She was a beautiful woman who wouldn’t be single for long.

      Besides, Bo was practically a stranger and didn’t hobnob with her circle.

      He studied his handiwork on the extension to the bathhouse. Not bad. His work here was done for the day.

      As he packed up his tools, he heard a vehicle drive up, and glanced out into the parking lot. He didn’t give much thought about the car that pulled in beside his pickup. Not until Greg Banning got out with an attractive blonde, a couple of kids and another woman.

      Damn. He hoped things didn’t blow sky-high, because it was pretty obvious neither Carly nor Greg expected to see the other at the community pool.

      A part of him wanted to give Carly a heads-up, a friendly warning. To rescue the lovely damsel in distress.

      But who was he to interfere?

      It was best if he got his crap together and headed out to the parking lot before things got…ugly.

      “Hey,” Rebecca said as she prepared to climb into the hot tub, removing her cover-up and revealing a new black swimsuit and the body to properly show it off. “Did you see that cute guy working on the bathhouse? I wonder who he is.”

      Carly looked toward the brick building and spotted Bo Conway, one of the carpenters who’d done the renovations on her house a couple of months ago, folding up a ladder.

      “Actually, I know him. His name is Bo,” she told them. “He’s a carpenter. And a very good one.”

      He was also an attractive man, with a glimmer in his eyes and a single dimple that formed on one cheek when he smiled. He was rugged in an artsy sort of way. Solid, dependable, down-to-earth.

      When he’d worked at the McMansion, Carly had often studied him from a distance, although she didn’t think he knew she found him…interesting. Appealing.

      More than once she’d wondered if he was seeing anyone or if he’d like to meet a nice, single woman. If so, she would have been happy to set something up. Yet whenever she tried to think of someone suitable, the woman fell short.

      Molly, who had yet to take off the sundress that hid her bathing suit, reached into what looked like a briefcase and carried a couple of files and her reading glasses to the hot tub.

      “You brought work with you to the pool?” Carly asked.

      “Just some material I need to look over.” Molly took a seat beside Carly on the edge of the tub and dangled her feet into the hot, bubbly water. “Your friend the carpenter is good-looking. Is he single?”

      “I assume so. He doesn’t wear a ring.”

      “A lot of construction workers don’t for safety reasons.” Rebecca lowered herself into the tub, grimacing slightly at the temperature. “Either way, he’s sure been watching you, Carly.”

      “Me? Don’t be ridiculous.”

      Bo had always treated her with the utmost respect and been very professional. There’d never been anything even the slightest bit flirty going on between them. Not even after Greg moved out and it was apparent Carly was single. And vulnerable.

      But the thought that he might be looking at her caused her heart to flutter in an adolescent way.

      She glanced his way, caught his gaze, then quickly turned her head.

      Had he been watching her?

      Nah. Couldn’t be.

      Yet even though there was no reason in the world why she should be so uncomfortable about making eye contact, why her heart would kick up a notch…

      Oh, for Pete’s sake. She tugged at the hem of her extra-large T-shirt, which hid a multitude of sins…or rather, doughnut binges. If anything, Bo probably wondered why in the heck she’d come out in public looking like this.

      “You know what?” Molly asked. “I think he’s interested in you. He keeps glancing your way with this…I don’t know, kind of a sweet, puppy-dog look in his eyes.”

      “Bo?” Carly didn’t have to feign her surprise.

      “That’s the one.”

      Carly shrugged off the comment. After all, Bo, a self-employed artisan, was so completely down-to-earth he didn’t seem interested in the drama of suburbia. And Carly had fought long and hard to be queen of Danbury Way.

      Yeah, right. Queen of an enormous mansion in New York State where her only companion was an echo of the haunting voice of a father who still pointed out her deficiencies within the cold silence.

      Rebecca nodded her head toward the bathhouse. “Why don’t you make the first move. Before he leaves.”

      “Oh, cut it out.” Carly rolled her eyes. “I’d never do that.”

      “Why not?”

      For a lot of reasons. She wasn’t that bold, for one. But she offered the one that seemed the most logical. “Because I still feel married, remember?”

      Before either of her friends could counter with an argument, the wrought-iron gate swung open and several children dashed inside, followed by three smiling adults.

      Carly’s heart pounded in her chest as she recognized Megan’s sister, Angela, and her kids.

      That in itself would have been enough to cause Carly to make excuses and skedaddle.

      But when Greg walked through the gate, with Megan on his arm—the woman he’d chosen as her replacement—all Carly wanted to do was slip into the hot tub and drown a lobster’s death.

      The paunch in her belly seemed to swell and fold into Jabba the Hutt proportions. And all she could think of was getting the heck out of here. Quick.

      Okay, so Greg and

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