Finn’s head tilted to the side, his English lilt more pronounced than usual. “I had no idea Jarrett was so perfect. Here I thought he was flesh and blood like the rest of us.”
“If you want my opinion,” Juanita said, from her seat beside Gabe’s bed, “Jarrett’s brought this on himself. If he’d taken my advice he’d already be married to my niece, and none of this would’ve happened.”
“Jarrett’s not great at taking advice,” said Finn, with an exaggerated wink at Rylie. “It’s one of several noticeable faults, in my opinion.”
“Really?” Rylie perked up, rummaging in her purse until she found her cell phone. “What other faults does he have?”
Jarrett lost track of their conversation, suddenly mesmerized by Rylie’s eyes. Had they always been so blue?
“Let’s see… Jarrett’s faults…” Finn locked his fingers together and stretched them backwards, cracking his knuckles. “He’s used the same aftershave the last twenty years.”
Jarrett shook his head to clear it. “Hey! That’s not true!”
“Fifteen years, then,” Finn said.
“Got it,” Rylie typed on her phone. “What else?”
“He’s very stubborn,” said Juanita. “And he doesn’t like parties.”
“Stubborn… got it. Hmmm… I don’t like parties, either. Is that a fault?”
“Excuse me,” Jarrett said. “Don’t you have something better to do than discuss my faults?”
Humor played at Finn’s lips, though he responded in deadpan voice. “Nope.”
“We could talk about the wedding plans,” Juanita said.
“Wedding plans?” Rylie’s deer-in-the-headlights look was exactly how he felt. “We’re already married. We don’t need another wedding.”
“That wasn’t a proper wedding,” Juanita said. “You need a real one. With a priest.”
“But I’m not Catholic,” Rylie said.
“Me, neither,” Jarrett added.
“Okay, you can have one of your preachers do it. But you have to have a real wedding.” She sat back in her chair and pulled her knitting from a bag at her feet. Without looking up, she added, “In a church.”
Rylie’s eyes pleaded with him, but he knew there was no way to change Juanita’s mind once it was set.
“We’ll think about it, Juanita. But for the moment, our focus is on Gabe.”
“You’d better focus on each other,” Juanita said. “You won’t be able to fool that caseworker. She’ll smell something fishy. The two of you don’t even hold hands.”
“Lots of people aren’t demonstrative in public,” Jarrett argued. He’d imposed on Rylie enough already. He couldn’t ask her to act affectionate when the caseworker came to visit. How awkward would that be?
“I’m just sayin’…” Juanita’s tongue clicked as her head shook slowly back and forth. “That lady makes her living watching families. She’s going to know you’re not normal newlyweds. I say we need to get some mistletoe in here so the two of you can practice kissing.”
He wished Juanita hadn’t put the thought in his head, because he would have to work hard to get it out.
“I don’t think so!” Rylie said. “Any more of that talk, Juanita, and I’m not bringing my oatmeal chocolate chip cookies on Saturday.”
Gabe stirred awake, mumbling in Spanish, and Juanita turned her attention to him, forgetting her knitting, along with the mistletoe suggestion. But Rylie’s blanched face told Jarrett she was as worried as he was. Except she was worried about how to fake feeling attracted, while he was worried about how to hide it.
CHAPTER 11
Saturday morning, Rylie stood in shock, twirling the band around her left finger as she stared at the sea of bright red, orange and turquoise. “This is what I get for saying I didn’t care how the designer decorated the master bedroom,” she mumbled under her breath.
“Don’t you love it?” Her arm was gripped by a perky brunette who didn’t look a day over twenty, decked out in what had to be next-year’s fashions, because Rylie had never seen anything like it. “I’m Candace Kane, the owner of Designs by Kane. Of course, when we got the call Thursday, we dropped everything to get the room ready for you, Mrs. Alvarez. I just love when a client gives me free rein!”
“I’ll bet you do.” Rylie turned in a circle, pretending to examine the room in detail, though she was simply attempting to extricate herself from Candace’s claw-like grasp. She searched for a polite response. “It’s very… bright.”
Jarrett was going to hate it. Maybe she could break it to him gently.
“Yes. It’s what I call funk shui. Kind of a Bohemian-Industrial look.”
“It’s great,” Rylie said, squinting at the barrage of colors. She almost hated to ask, but she had to know, since Gabe was coming home from the hospital today. “What did you do with our son’s room?”
“I’m afraid that’s the only bedroom your husband would hardly let me change.”
Rylie had to see for herself. She marched down the hallway with Candace on her heels and opened Gabe’s door. The room still in the original soft blues and greens, Candace had added a beanbag chair and a low dresser with padded drawer-fronts in a cute animal fabric. Continuing the animal theme, the wall beside the bed had a plaque with his name, each letter formed by an animal. Rylie breathed her relief. At least this room wouldn’t raise Gabe’s heart rate when he was trying to sleep tonight.
“I like it, Candace.”
“You don’t think it’s too boring?”
“No, I think you’ve added just the right amount of funk to the shui for a little boy coming home from the hospital.”
