Page 27 of Temporary Wife Temptation

She slammed the pan on the counter and Garrett winced. The contents of the pan were burned beyond recognition. They wouldn’t even be able to salvage the pan, much less their dinner.

Natalie would’ve been the first one to laugh at herself under normal circumstances. Not tonight. She was wound so tight, Garrett was afraid she’d snap before the social worker got there. With a sigh, he unbuttoned the sleeves of his shirt and rolled them above his elbows.

“What are you doing?” Her eyes widened as she watched him.

“Helping.”

Opening the fridge, he checked its contents. Garlic, parsley, lemon and white wine. She’d only bought ingredients called for by the shrimp-scampi recipe, but now the shrimp was history.

“I can manage,” she said, straightening her shoulders. “I know you have work to do before Norma gets here.”

“You also yelled bloody murder, calling me down here. I’m cooking and you’re demoted to being my assistant.”

“You can cook?” Her stubborn refusal to accept help gave way to a hopeful lift of her voice.

“Like angels can sing.” He shot her a wide grin before laying out the ingredients on the counter and setting a big pot of water to boil. “We’ll have spaghetti aglio e olio. Do we have crushed pepper flakes?”

“Crushed pepper?” Despite her protest seconds ago, Natalie smiled, unable to hide her relief. “Let me check.”

“And the salad, did you already make it?”

“Make the salad?” She snorted. “Even I can dump out a salad kit and squeeze dressing over it.”

“You bought a salad kit?” He grimaced. “Get out a lemon and grate off some lemon rind. We’ll try to salvage the salad the best we can.”

He chopped a handful of garlic cloves and the Italian parsley. When the olive oil was warm in the pan, he added the garlic, then turned off the heat after two minutes. The simple pasta needed to be served immediately after it was prepared.

Natalie had gained some color back in her cheeks and seemed calmer after having a task to focus on. She had grated the skin off a dozen lemons but Garrett let her carry on.

“Are we serving dessert?” he asked.

“What? You bake, too?” Her expression was an amalgam of admiration and envy.

“Hell, no. I don’t do measuring cups or tiny spoons.”

“Okay.” Natalie’s smile was small but genuine. She had her panic under control. “Then we’ll just go with the ice cream and berries I bought.”

Garrett was suddenly struck by the domesticity of the moment—the two of them making dinner together, waiting for their guest. The odd twist in his heart was accompanied by a jab of fear. Before he could analyze his feelings, Sophie cooed through the baby monitor.

“Sophie’s up,” he said. Their attorney was a skilled negotiator, and the Davises agreed to allow the baby to spend two days a week with him and Natalie soon after their wedding. “I’ll get her ready.”

“Would you?” Natalie pressed a shy kiss on his cheek. “Thank you so much. Her outfit’s on the nursing chair.”

“No problem.” His voice was gruff as he fought the urge to pull Natalie into his arms.

When Garrett reached the nursery, Sophie stood waiting, holding on to the railing of her crib like a prisoner doing time behind bars. But her chubby face split into a huge grin when she spotted him.

“Gah-gah!” He wasn’t too thrilled about sharing the famous singer’s name, but he was getting used to being called Gah-gah. With that sweet smile, anything she said was fine by him.

“Hello, sweetheart.” Garrett lifted her out of the crib and over his head until the sound of her giggles filled his heart. “We’re counting on you to charm Ms. Rice tonight. You can handle her, right?”

“Gah-gah.”

“Okay.” He took that as a yes and stared at the pink dress set out for her. “You’re going to have to help me here. Does this ruffly thing go on your head or your bottom?”

Sophie tried to stuff it in her mouth, where it definitely didn’t belong. He contemplated shouting for Natalie but he refused to admit he was an idiot who didn’t know how to put a dress on a tot.

By the time they came back downstairs, Natalie had set the table with a centerpiece of trimmed daisies and a yellow table cover he’d never seen. It looked warm and charming, like someplace a real family would eat. It filled Garrett with a yearning he thought was dead. No. None of this is real. It was an illusion that a soft breeze could extinguish. Something that would end in less than a year.

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