Her Hired Husband. Renee Roszel

It had to be bad karma. Obviously, since she’d decided to lie, she was going to pay big! “Uh—I guess—the room upstairs at the end of the hall.”

      He nodded. “Check.”

      Sally was suddenly smacked in the face with a daunting reality. Miserable and shaky, she lowered herself to sit on a step. Other than the nursery, which at the moment had no bed in it at all, the room at the end of the hall was the only other bedroom in the house. Unfortunately for them both, Noah Barrett would be forced to share it with an extremely pregnant roommate.

      Sally dropped her head in her hands, praying that her hired husband would take the news well. Or failing that, at least take it quietly.

      The afternoon was long; tension filled the air. Hubert spent most of his time moaning and insisting he couldn’t move while Abigail spent her time insisting he get up and “walk it off.”

      Sally cleared out some closet space, explaining the lack of masculine clothing in a vague statement that they were in the middle of “rearranging things for the baby.” Not that Abigail cared or even listened. She spent most of her time glaring at Hubert and spraying disinfectant.

      Noah had been quiet and grim when out of sight of the Vanderkellens. He’d made one trip into town to pick up food for Abigail’s “delicate palate.” Which, translated, meant she assumed anything already opened in Sally’s refrigerator was contaminated.

      Sally took a dinner tray of newly purchased cottage cheese, peach slices and freshly ground designer coffee to her grandmother. As she trekked back downstairs, she wondered if Abigail’s need to eat beside Hubert’s bedside was because she was so devoted, or because she hadn’t disinfected the kitchen.

      She reentered the kitchen surprised to see Noah standing at the gas range, stirring the ingredients in her frying pan. At the sound of her entry, he glanced toward the door, his expression closed and unreadable.

      She still reeled at his decision to forgo the first few days of his precious vacation to help her. Whatever the favor Sam had done for Noah must have been a whopper. It was clear he was far from happy he’d made this choice. Maybe she would ask what tipped the scales in her favor. Later. Right now she opted for a more immediate question. “What are you doing to the fried potatoes and onions?”

      “They were starting to stick.”

      She was amazed he’d noticed. Black smoke could have been billowing out, filling the room with choking smog and Sam wouldn’t have registered any problem. “Thanks.” She took the cooking fork from his hand. “I think the meat loaf is ready. We could eat.”

      “What about a salad?”

      She peered at him. She wasn’t a salad person, but she’d tried hard to include them in her diet. On occasion. “Uh, I don’t know what I have…but if you want one…” She waved the cooking fork toward the refrigerator, giving permission to look.

      He indicated her belly, covered by a color-happy, ruffled apron. “I think some raw greens would be good for Vivica.”

      Sally wasn’t accustomed to having anybody tell her what to do, but she held her temper. After all, Noah was doing her a favor. “Well—if you can find anything saladlike, feel free.”

      He rummaged through the refrigerator. “So, how’s your grandfather?”

      “Asleep. I think in self-defense. Unconscious he can’t hear grandmother accusing him of malingering.”

      Noah’s deep, cynical chuckle filled the air. “I gathered from what I heard, the first week of their cruise included an extensive walking tour of the pyramids of Cozumel. I got the strong impression Hubert was not particularly hot for it.”

      “The second week is supposed to take them to St. Martin, St. Thomas and Martinique where, according to Abigail, Hubert planned to play golf, golf and more golf, which she abhors with a passion.”

      Noah straightened and it appeared from Sally’s vantage point at the stove, that he’d found a few items that might be considered saladish. “Sounds to me like you can count on Hubert recovering in a week.”