Just A Little Bit Married. Teresa Southwick

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that was important to me?”

      Intensity rotated through him and was nearly as powerful as what he’d felt ten years ago. He recalled the anguish and pain in her voice when she’d pleaded with him to tell her why he was leaving. What she’d done. It was an understatement to say he hadn’t been thinking clearly. He left the Harts, too, and stayed away for a long time. “It mattered to me.”

      “So you had to split from me and got a half-price lawyer to do it.”

      “I didn’t feel it was right to use a Hart attorney since I wasn’t really part of the family. And in the spirit of full disclosure, I walked away from everyone.” He backpacked through Europe, although it would be more accurate to say that he drank his way from one country to the next. “After two years I came back.” But he never forgot that he was the bastard son who always needed to prove himself.

      “And your father? The biological one?”

      “What about him?”

      “What’s he like?”

      “Good question. Like I said, I don’t see him. And if it’s all the same to you I don’t want to talk about him. I only brought it up for context.”

      “Don’t expect me to forgive you,” she said.

      “I don’t.” But seeing her again, remembering that they’d once been two halves of a whole, made him wish she could. “I just thought you should know about the divorce.”

      “It is kind of important,” she agreed. “Chances are I would have found out the hard way pretty soon.”

      “Oh?”

      “I’ve been dating someone and it’s getting serious.” She turned away and walked over to the couch, absently rearranging throw pillows. “Lately he’s been hinting about getting married.”

      Linc had absolutely no right to the feeling but that didn’t stop the blast of raw jealousy that roared through him. “I guess it would have been awkward to apply for a marriage license and find out you were still married.”

      “You think?”

      He detected the tiniest bit of defensiveness in her voice and decided to take a shot. “You never told him you’d been married before?”

      “We were married for fifteen minutes.” Ten years ago her eyes took on shades of gray when she was annoyed and they looked that way now. “It was a long time ago. I’ve been busy. It didn’t seem important.”

      “The thing is, you never checked to find out about the divorce,” he reminded her.

      “Neither did you.”

      “Fair enough. I will take care of it now. Mason, my new lawyer, will handle the details and send the papers to you for your signature. Then it will be behind us.” At least the paperwork part. His feelings were a lot more complicated than he’d expected.

      “Okay.” She frowned. “How did you know where I was?”

      “How does anyone find anyone? I looked you up on the internet.”

      Also he’d checked her out, found out what she’d been doing all these years. First college, then five years working with a prestigious design firm in Dallas before opening her own business not quite two years ago. And it wasn’t doing well. If she was, she’d still be located in Dallas, not thirty-five miles away, where office and living spaces were combined and cheap.

      She ran everything herself, no hired help and therefore no payroll. There were a few flooring, window-covering and paint samples in her downstairs studio, but not what you’d see in a larger, successful company.

      Her reputation was good, but her business was going down with a whimper. Unless someone gave her a high-profile opportunity.

      “Look, Rose, there’s another reason I came to see you.”

      “What else could there possibly be? Isn’t the fact that we’re not legally divorced enough?”

      “This is a good thing. Trust me.”

      “Seriously? You have the nerve to ask me to trust you? Getting involved with you was the worst mistake of my life.”

      “Right.” He refused to react, to let her know the arrow hit its mark. “You have no reason to trust me. And that doesn’t bode well, because I want to offer you a job.”

      “Doing what?”

      “Decorating.” He moved closer. “My condo in Blackwater Lake, Montana.”

      “And why would I want to do that?”

      “Because the town is about to be on the rich-and-famous radar when a new hotel, condo and retail project opens. The hotel is entering the last phase of construction and will need decorating. I know the developer. Use my condo for your résumé and dazzle them. I’ll put in a good word.” Linc pitched her the rest of the details, then asked, “What do you think?”

      “I think I want to know what your angle is.”

      “No ulterior motive.” Except giving her business a helping hand might earn him some redemption points.

      “I don’t need your charity.”

      “That’s not what this is.” He slid his fingertips into the pockets of his slacks. “I don’t deserve a favor, but I’m asking for one. Just think about it.”

      “Why?”

      “Because you’re good at what you do.” He pulled a card from his wallet and set it on the coffee table. “Call me in a few days with your decision. And before you think about not calling, you should know that I’ll contact you.”

      “Okay.”

      Linc was reluctant to leave but decided not to push his luck. The weird thing was he’d never planned to offer her a job. That changed when he saw her.

      Accepting his proposition would mean traveling to Blackwater Lake with him and he really wanted her to do that. For old time’s sake. For her business. To make things up to her so he would feel better about what he’d done.

      Ultimately the reasons were about him, which did, in fact, make him a self-centered bastard like his father.

      * * *

      “What do you mean you’re married? More important—why do I not know this about you? And don’t even get me started on why I wasn’t invited to the wedding.”

      Rose stared at her BFF, Vicki Jeffers. After Linc left she couldn’t stop shaking. He was a ghost from the past and she’d barely held it together when he showed up out of the blue. She’d really needed to talk to someone and begged her friend to come over. Apparently her shocked and shaky tone had convinced the other woman to break a date. So Rose told her story and the other woman was now staring at her as if she had two heads.

      “I’m not married so much as not quite divorced.” She took another sip of the wine Vicki had brought. It was a nice vintage, more than Rose

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