Husband for a Weekend. GINA WILKINS

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СКАЧАТЬ whims and schemes.

      Kim didn’t make it necessary for Tate to come up with a response to Julian’s accusation. “That’s not Tate’s fault. I’ve been very busy. Between my work and the baby, I’ve had very little free time. This long weekend is the closest I’ve come to a vacation since the last time I saw you.”

      “That was at the reception for Mom and Bob,” Stuart mumbled without looking up from his computer. “It was the day after my fifteenth birthday. We were going to have a cake for me at the reception but no one remembered to order one.”

      He didn’t sound particularly resentful, Tate decided. More matter-of-fact, as though he were accustomed to being overlooked. Tate wondered if Stuart, too, would separate himself from his family as soon as he felt comfortable being on his own. It sounded as though Julian came around somewhat more often than Kim now that he’d gotten out of the service, but from what he’d observed thus far, Tate certainly didn’t fault Kim for her different choice.

      If Betsy even heard Stuart’s comment, she gave no sign. Instead, she patted Bob’s arm and said, “Sweetie, why don’t you help Tate bring in their bags and show him to their room? The boys and I will catch up with Kim and Daryn until you get back.”

      Tate looked at Kim with a slightly lifted eyebrow, but she nodded for him to go ahead. As he followed Bob from the room, it occurred to him that he and Kim would be sharing a room for the night. Of course her family would assume they shared a bed—besides, he doubted there would be an unfilled bedroom with the whole family here.

      Bob seemed to follow the direction of his thoughts. “There are three bedrooms upstairs,” he explained, motioning toward the staircase on their way out. “Ours and Stuart’s and the guest room. Julian has an apartment not far from here, so he’ll be sleeping there tonight. Betsy said you were bringing a portable crib for the baby?”

      Remembering seeing the folded crib in the large trunk, Tate nodded. Daryn would bunk in the same room with them like a teeny-tiny chaperone, but it could still be awkward. He’d just have to do his best to put Kim at ease, even if it meant sleeping on the floor himself.

      “There’s a lot of stuff,” he said, opening the back of the car. “I’ll probably have to make a couple of trips. It’s amazing how many supplies one little baby requires for only a weekend.”

      Bob chuckled. “I remember.”

      In response to Tate’s questioning look, he explained, “I’ve got two kids of my own, both college-age now. They live with their mother, my ex-wife, in Texas, but I see them quite often.”

      “They won’t be here this weekend, then?”

      “No, they haven’t exactly bonded with Betsy’s family.” He sighed lightly and gave a little shake of his head. “Can’t really blame them for that.”

      Giving Tate a rueful little shrug, he reached into the car and pulled out the travel crib and a heavy bag. “My in-laws are … complicated. It’s no wonder my poor Betsy has to resort to rather extreme measures when dealing with them.”

      “Like inventing a husband for her daughter, you mean?”

      “Well, yes. I must say, you’re being a good sport about all of this.”

      Tate shrugged. “Just helping out a friend.”

      “Is that all you and Kim are? Friends? Because when you smiled at her, I thought maybe …”

      Scooting around the older man, Tate grabbed a couple of bags and hefted them out of the car. “We should get these things inside. Kim might need something for the baby.”

      Bob took the hint immediately. Hefting his own load a bit higher, he turned toward the house. “I’ll help you get the rest on the next trip.”

      Rather relieved, Tate followed with his own armload. The one thing he did not want to do before spending a night in the same bedroom with Kim was to overanalyze his feelings about her.

      “Well?” Betsy demanded of her sons almost the minute Bob and Tate left the room. “What do you think of your brother-in-law? Didn’t I tell you he was a great guy?”

      Kim sighed and gave her mother a chiding look over Daryn’s head. She saw no need to keep lying to her half brothers about this fake marriage—not that there was really any need for Betsy to lie to anyone about it, but especially not her own sons. At least she seemed to have told Bob the truth.

      Still reluctant to humiliate her mother publicly, Kim vowed to draw her aside at the first possible opportunity and request that they find a way to let Julian and Stuart in on the secret. Maybe they could just call it a big joke on the rest of the family.

      “He seemed okay.” Stuart answered his mother’s question with a shrug, again without looking up from his screen. “Better than I expected, I guess.”

      What was that supposed to mean?

      Before Kim could ask for clarification, Julian spoke up. “Seems kind of cocky to me. Just because he’s an architect or whatever doesn’t mean he’s any better than the rest of us.”

      “Tate isn’t an architect, he’s a landscape designer. A very talented one,” Kim correctly mildly, though she felt her defenses rise in response to the criticism.

      Stuart shot a look at their mother. “You told me, too, that he was an architect.”

      Was the game already over? Whatever else they might be, her brothers weren’t dumb, and they’d already been taken aback by the apparent name change. Kim figured there was no way her mother was going to be able to cover all the fabrications she’d told them.

      Betsy gave a sad sigh, and for a moment Kim thought her mother was actually going to come clean.

      She should have known better.

      “That was my mistake.” Looking somewhat mournfully toward Kim, Betsy explained, “When Kim mentioned that Trey—I mean, Tate—was a landscape designer, I thought she meant an architect. I can be so scatterbrained sometimes.”

      When everyone merely nodded in response to that comment, she added, “I would have been corrected much sooner if my daughter ever found time to call—or better yet, to actually visit her mother occasionally.”

      Both her brothers looked at her somewhat reproachfully, and Kim scowled. All of a sudden, it was all her fault? How did Betsy keep getting away with these antics?

      “Look,” she said firmly, “there’s something you need to—”

      “So you married a gardener, not an architect?” Julian nodded in satisfaction, as if that explained something that had puzzled him. “That makes more sense.”

      Her frown deepened. “What do you mean?”

      He shrugged. “Well, it just seemed odd that you’d be married to a successful architect and still be working all the time, rather than staying home with your daughter. I figured Mom had exaggerated some about your husband’s financial success, but now I get it.”

      “You get what?” Kim asked, studying him through narrowed eyes.

      Looking back down at his computer, Stuart mumbled, СКАЧАТЬ