Wife by Design - Page 50

“He’s never mentioned her to me so I haven’t said anything.”

“Do you think he’s noticed that you aren’t giving him any time with her?”

“Doesn’t seem to have.”

“That’s good, then.”

“I thought so.”

He didn’t tell her about his botched attempt to take care of any needs his brother might have. Darin hadn’t mentioned it again, either. Which was fine with him.

At the moment he was more interested in his own needs. Ones that would never be assuaged by a trip to a club.

He was beginning to fear that they wouldn’t be assuaged by time alone with a woman, either. Unless the woman was Lynn Duncan.

He’d get over her. He knew he would. He was thirty-eight, not eighteen. As soon as he and Darin were done at the Stand, his desire for Darin’s nurse would fade.

“Okay, then,” he said, still thinking about her wave that afternoon.

“Sleep well.”

“You, too.”

He hung up.

And took another long shower before climbing naked between the sheets.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

LUKE AND CRAIG were back on Bishop Landscaping paying jobs, with Grant spending his mornings and evenings doing CEO and design work, and the rest of his days out in the Garden of Renewal.

By Thursday, though, he had to take time off from the garden to mow. The Lemonade Stand grounds weren’t growing as quickly as they would when the rainy season came and the sun got a bit warmer, but he didn’t want them to look anything other than resort perfect.

He was kind of looking forward to a couple of hours riding the industrial-size zero-turn mower someone had donated to the shelter. Bishop Landscaping didn’t do a lot of mowing and had no reason to invest the thousands of dollars it would cost for one of those babies.

And he didn’t do a whole lot of the menial yard work tasks at any rate.

But as he climbed aboard late Thursday morning, he found himself on guard for a little curly-haired imp around every corner.

Maddie and Darin were in therapy. Kara would be at the day care. Unless for some reason she wasn’t. No one would have thought to tell him. Still, Kara wasn’t the only child at the complex, though, as a rule, kids were either in school or at the day care during the time Grant was around.

He didn’t see Kara. But as he rounded a corner, he saw Lynn in blue scrubs walking with a woman and two children. The children, about first and second graders, he figured, clung to their mother, one on each side.

Lynn said something. The children laughed.

She looked over at him.

He waved.

And she waved back.

* * *

SHORTLY AFTER ELEVEN that morning, his cell beeped a sound he wasn’t familiar with. And vibrated, too. Pulling it out of the holster on his belt, he saw that he had a message from his service provider. He’d reached his maximum minutes for the month and was now being charged a per-minute fee.

His cell was also his business phone. There was no way he could pay per minute every time a client called him.

It was a mistake. Had to be. He’d been on the same phone plan for more than six years. And he’d never reached his minute limit.

Sitting on the stopped mower in the middle of one of the six commons that made up the living quarters of The Lemonade Stand, he dialed his service provider.

A couple of minutes later, privy to the information that there’d been no mistake, he started mowing again. Just until lunchtime. Or until he saw Lynn heading back toward her office unaccompanied.

He did a row. Then another. Leaving a neat pattern of cut grass in his wake. And then he stopped. Maybe she’d returned to work through the building. He wouldn’t have seen her.

Yanking the key from the ignition of the mower, he left it in the yard and strode off toward Lynn’s office. Rounding a corner too quickly, and not looking where he was going, he almost ran straight into her. Would have if she hadn’t held out a hand to prevent the collision.

“Lynn! I’m sorry,” he apologized, holding on to her arm until he was certain she hadn’t lost her balance.

And then he didn’t let go.

“I was looking for…”

“I was coming to find…” They spoke in unison.

The air was a balmy sixty-five, but Grant was sweating in his Bishop Landscaping oxford shirt and jeans.

Tags: Tara Taylor Quinn Billionaire Romance
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