Page 79 of The Work Wife

The group had quieted except for Wendy, who let out a little sound of awe. Then everyone clapped and their moment was broken.

“Nice job,” Curt said next to him, his eyes shining.

* * * *

“Your turn, Jamie,” Misty prompted.

Jamie let out a breath and nodded. “Mine’s a tearjerker. Someone pass Curt a tissue.” The group laughed as she bit her lip and looked up to meet her husband’s gaze. He gave her strength.

“It was when my father’s cancer returned.” She hadn’t told anyone at work about her father’s illness. Telling people made it too real. She wasn’t ready yet. It was easy now. These people assumed it was something in the past. Something that was over.

“I stupidly thought I was prepared for it. He had been in remission, and I had hope, but I always knew it could come back. As it turned out, I wasn’t prepared at all. It hit me worse than it had at the initial diagnosis. Maybe because my father didn’t even tell me himself. He made Wes tell me.”

She frowned at him, feeling bad that he was put in that situation. Though she wouldn’t have wanted anyone else with her when she found out. Wes reached across the table and ran his fingers over her knuckles. She turned her hand so she could squeeze his.

“I tried not to cry. I was keeping it together. But when Weston confirmed my suspicions, I broke down. I think he was waiting for it, because he was standing so close when it happened. He held me up when my legs couldn’t. I cried for a long time, and he held me together when I thought I was going to break apart.” The pain twisted in her stomach at the memory.

“It was then that I realized I didn’t need to pretend to be strong for Wes. I knew he would be there to hold me up when I couldn’t do it myself. I know, no matter what, he will always be there.”

She heard a sniff beside Weston as Rob passed Curt a napkin. But her gaze stayed on her husband, who stood and came around the table. When he got to her seat, he knelt down and pulled her close.

“He’s going to be okay, Jamie. I believe that with all my heart,” he whispered so only she could hear. Jamie nodded and pulled back to look at him again.

He was a handsome man, her husband, but there was something else there in his face as she looked at him. Friendship, loyalty, and maybe even a hint of love—not the gushy kind, but the kind that comes from caring about someone for years on end.

“Thank you,” she said back. They moved to the next person as Wes took her chair, pulling her onto his lap until they were dismissed. She leaned against him, enjoying the safety and security that was Weston Archer.

“What you said tonight. That was very romantic,” Jamie said as they walked back to their cottage. They’d been holding hands as the crowd dispersed, but there was no reason why they were still holding hands, except that he hadn’t let go and neither had she.

It was just hands touching. It didn’t mean anything.

“I thought if I gave a romantic story I might get a pass on Romance 101,” he joked.

“You know I would let you out of it.” She smiled. “I don’t need you to be any more romantic than what you already are. It’s a hazard to our plan.” Just the warmth of his hand wrapped around hers sent a constant tingle up her arm. Right to her heart.

“For the record, I was touched by what you said too. Maybe we should stick with fake stories from now on.”

Maybe he was feeling the shift between them too. She shouldn’t be playing her part so convincingly. The problem was, she wasn’t acting.

“Agreed,” she said quickly.

“I doubt anyone will question us.”

“Not after tonight.”

Wes let go of her hand to open the door to their cottage and the spell between them dissipated into the cool night air like a ghost.

She took her pajamas into the bathroom, while Wes changed in the room. When he gave the all clear, she came out and jumped in bed so he could go brush his teeth.

They said a friendly goodnight to one another before Wes turned off the light and got in bed next to her. God, he was warm. She could feel his body heat from a few inches away. It was glorious, even though it was already warm in the room.

It might have been fifteen minutes or an hour, Jamie didn’t know. Her mind was too busy doing that thing where it played every awful scenario it could come up with and repeated it relentlessly until she gave up on falling asleep.

“Weston? Are you asleep?” she asked.

“Yes. Very deeply asleep.” His voice was so low it barely disturbed the darkness.

“Good. I wanted to ask you something, but I didn’t want to wake you.” The bed moved with his silent laughter.