Page 84 of Fake Wife
We work together, side by side. Me in my workshop unless I have to go to the new warehouse we’ve bought just outside of town to help with orders. I now have fifteen employees, all local. Bluffs Builders furniture is now in independent, nonchain stores up and down the entire West Coast, and we’re constantly expanding.
I still prefer to create and build furniture in my private workshop on our land, but all the furniture built by my staff is done at the warehouse and gets my approval. It’s all handmade. I will not sell out for quantity versus quality.
I haven’t spoken to either of my parents in two years, my father refusing to allow my mother to have any relationship with me. I fought it at first, but she’ll follow him to her grave, burying herself in drugs and alcohol to get there. Anything so she doesn’t bring more shame to him. And I’ve had to let it go.
Fortunately, I have Teagan.
She’s everything. And even now, her laugh and her smile as I watch her working with three ten-year-old children in the paddock makes my heart ache and my dick go hard. They’re finishing brushing down horses, cooling them down. It’s almost dinnertime, and they should be picked up soon, but it’s not my anxiousness to have her alone that makes my pulse race.
She’s beautiful, kindly teaching children how to brush the horses properly. Her equine therapy is more than just a farm.
It’s a center for children, most of whom are on the autism spectrum and have difficulties communicating. Yet their hearts are some of the sweetest I’ve ever met, and their gentle love for animals is unparalleled.
My wife shines every day it’s time to start work. Whether she’s on a horse or working with children, she has lofty goals and a bigger heart than anyone I’ve ever met.
Plus, she puts up with me, so she also has more patience than a saint. I might have been the rich, successful man when we got together, but I definitely married up.
I hope she never realizes it.
“There you are,” she says, turning to me. “How was your day?” She takes off her thick leather gloves and rolls to her toes to kiss me. “I missed you.”
I kiss her back, forcefully but quick. There are children around.
“I’ve missed you more.” She playfully rolls her eyes and I tap her backside. “You almost done here? I can get dinner started.”
“Um.” Her eyes dart around, a pink hue darkens her cheeks, and it has nothing to do with her constantly working outside. “Actually, I was thinking we could do something different.”
“You want to cook?” She works long, hard hours and is usually exhausted. I’ve taken over most of dinner when I’m home, and she rarely turns me down when I offer.
Her top lip disappears between her teeth. Her blush deepens.
“Hey, what is it?”
“Nothing. It’s just…well, I was hoping we could go to Gill’s.”
My brows furrow, pulled tight with a snap. Gill’s is the nicest restaurant in town. The only restaurant with candlelight and decent champagne and true silverware and slick tablecloths. We can afford to go whenever we want, but prefer to keep it to celebrations.
She must read my confusion, because one finger presses against the deep line above my nose. “Corbin.”
“What happened?” My hands fall to her hips. “More students?”
“No.” She laughs softly, and it cracks a bit over her nerves. “Well, there’s a child, but he or she won’t be a student.”
My fingers flinch on my grip and as she looks at me, wide, beautiful brown eyes sparking, I close my eyes and drop my forehead to hers.
“You’re joking.”
“I’m not. I wanted to wait until the kids were gone to tell you.”
“Tell me you’re serious.”
She takes her hand, pulls one of mine off her hips, and presses it to her stomach. My hand is trembling. I’m shaking. My entire body feels electrified. We’ve been trying for months. Almost eight, and I know every month she doesn’t have to take a test she gets that sad, worried look in her eyes.
And God. “You’re pregnant?” I can barely ask the words. Emotion thickens my throat and I press my lips together. I’ve cried twice in my life.
The day I buried Eleanor.
The night Teagan saidI do.
