Her Secret Husband. Andrea Laurence
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Whenever he forgot his pencil, she would loan him one of hers. They were pink and smelled like strawberries, but he didn’t care. He left his pencil at home on purpose just so he could talk to her.
He’d fabricated childish plans to marry Julianne one day. It seemed like a pipe dream at the time, but one day on the playground, she kissed him—his very first kiss—and he knew that she was meant to be his. He’d even made her a Valentine’s Day card to tell her how he felt.
He never gave her the card. The weekend before their class party, his parents were killed in a car accident. Heath had been in the car at the time, but his injuries, while serious, had not been fatal. When he was finally discharged from the hospital, both he and his brother, Xander, had found themselves in the care of Family Services. The next thing he knew, they were living at the Christmas-tree farm on the edge of town and the beautiful golden-haired girl of his dreams was supposed to be his “sister.”
He had outright rejected that idea right away. They might live in the same home, but not once in twenty years had he ever referred to her as “sis” or “my sister.” She was Jules, usually; Julianne when he was speaking about her to the uninitiated.
He’d given up the dream of ever marrying his childhood love soon after coming to the Garden of Eden. Julianne never kissed him on the playground again. They were friends, but that was all. It wasn’t until they were seniors in high school and the only kids left on the farm that things started to change between them. The trip to Europe had been the tipping point. Unfortunately, it hadn’t tipped in his favor for long.
That seemed to be Julianne’s M.O. Since they’d broken up, she had dated, but from what he could tell, never seriously and never for long. None of the brothers had ever met a boyfriend. She never brought one home to the farm. Danny had come the furthest, moving in with Julianne. She didn’t really let any man get close, but Heath wasn’t certain what was the cause and what was the effect. Did their marriage fail because she didn’t do relationships, or did her relationships fail because she was married?
He had unpacked a few things and was halfway undressed when he heard a soft tap at his door. “Come in,” he called out.
Julianne opened the door and stuck her head in. She started to speak, and then stopped, her gaze dropping from his face to his bare chest. He tried not to move, fighting the urge to puff up his chest and suck in his stomach. He liked to think he looked pretty good without all that, but it was such a reflex. He jogged the High Line every morning and lifted weights. As a child, he was always the smaller, scrappier of the boys, but no longer. He might be the shortest, at six feet, but he could take any of his brothers and look good doing it.
The dumbstruck Julianne seemed to agree. A crimson flush rose to her delicate, porcelain cheeks. Her full bottom lip hung, useless, until her tongue shot across it and her mouth slammed shut.
If Heath had known strutting around shirtless would get this kind of reaction from her, he would have done it a long time ago. Nothing made her more uncomfortable than the topic of sex. If he’d pushed the issue, perhaps he’d be happily single or happily married right now. Watching her reaction, he thrust his hands in his pockets. His Dolce & Gabbana slacks rode lower with the movement, exposing the trail of hair beneath his navel and the cut of his muscles across his hips.
Julianne swallowed hard and then shook her head and shifted her gaze away to the nearby armoire. “I’m s-sorry,” she stuttered. “I didn’t realize you were...”
“It’s okay,” Heath said with a sly smile, enjoying her discomfort. “I’m not bashful and it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”
She shook her head, sending a wave of the luxurious golden strands over her shoulders. “I don’t remember you looking like that,” she said, quickly bringing her hand up to cover her mouth. She looked embarrassed to share her observation aloud.
Heath glanced down at the display of his own body and shrugged. “I’m not eighteen anymore.”
He supposed he would be struck just as hard to see her topless after all this time. Hell, he’d barely seen her naked back then. Sometimes when he was feeling particularly masochistic, he would allow himself to imagine what she looked like now beneath her sweaters and her jeans. The teenage girl he loved had become a very sexy and gifted woman. Any gangliness had been replaced with lush curves and soft, graceful movements. Beautiful and aggravating.
She stood awkwardly in the doorway, nodding, not looking at him, not saying anything for a few moments.
“Did you need something?” Heath prompted at last.
Her green gaze shifted back to his, her purpose suddenly regained. “Yes. Well, I mean, no. I don’t need anything. I, uh, just wanted to say thank you.”
“Thank you? For what?”
“For staying here with me tonight. I know you’d rather be laughing and chatting with Xander and Brody. You guys never get to see one another.”
“I see them more than I get to see you,” Heath said before he could stop himself. It was true. As children, they had been inseparable. She was his best friend. The marriage that should have brought them even closer together had driven them apart and he still didn’t understand why. “I miss you, Jules.”
A sadness crept into her eyes, a frown pulling down the corners of her mouth. “I miss you, too, Heath.”
“Be honest. You avoid me. Why?” he asked. “Even if we divorced, I get the feeling that you’d still be uncomfortable around me.”
“I’m not uncomfortable,” she said, but not convincingly.
“Am I being punished for what happened between us?”
Julianne sighed and slumped against the door frame. “It’s not about punishing you. And no, it’s not about what happened in Europe, either. There are just things in our past that I don’t like thinking about. It’s easier to forget when I don’t see or talk to you.”
“Things in our past? Wait...” he said. “Are you blaming me for what happened with Tommy Wilder?”
“No!” she spoke emphatically, raising her palm up to halt him. “You are my savior. The one who protected me when no one else could.”
“But you think of that horrible night when you look at me?” Heath was almost nauseated at the thought.
“No,” she insisted again, but less forcefully. “If that were true, I never could’ve fallen for you. It’s just easier for me to focus on the future instead of dwelling in the past. Our relationship is in my past.”
“Not according to the public records office. It is very much current and relevant. Ignoring things won’t change them. It just makes it worse.”
Julianne chuckled and crossed her arms over her chest. “Believe me, I know. I just don’t know what else to do about it.”
“We get divorced. We can’t just stay married forever.”
“It’s worked okay so far.”
Now it was Heath’s turn to laugh. “Says the woman that just broke up with her boyfriend when he proposed.”
“I didn’t...” she began to argue, and then stopped. “This conversation has strayed from what I’d intended when I knocked. Thank you, again,” she repeated. “And good night.”
Heath watched her slip through the doorway. “Good night,” he replied just as the door shut. Once he was certain she was settled in her room, he cast off the rest of his clothes and crawled into bed in his boxer shorts. The bed was soft and inviting, the sheets smelling like the lavender soap Molly used for linens and towels. The bed very nearly forced him to relax, luring him to the edge of sleep faster than he ever thought possible.
Things hadn’t worked out between him and Julianne, but he wasn’t stupid. He had long ago set aside any idea that their farce of a marriage might become something real. They’d never even consummated