Laura Altom - To Catch a Husband

“Our standing Wednesday night what, Adam? I told you I want to start a family. How am I going to do that hanging out at Ziggy’s with you and Bear?”

Sam pounded on the door. “Logue, that move wasn’t at all professional.”

Adam rolled his eyes. “If he were a real man, he’d kick the door down and claim you.”

“You know…” Shaking her head, Charity said, “I came in here today, ready to apologize. I’m sick of fighting with my best friend. I figured what the hey? Why not help with your dating problem? But seeing how you’re behaving, why should I help when you’re obviously not the slightest bit interested in helping me?”

Before Adam could stop her, or even come close to figuring out what she was upset about, she’d left him to join Sam, who’d been waiting for her out in the hall like a lost puppy.

Because he didn’t know what else to do, Adam clenched his fists. Dammit. Why had he reacted like that over nothing more than Bug changing her hair-style and wearing a dress?

So what if she went out with Sam? It wasn’t as if Adam had any claim on her. And if she was right, if he was her true friend, he’d wish her well in finding a guy who’d give her the family she all of a sudden wanted.

If he was her true friend, he’d apologize for going off on her like that. Then he’d do something grand as a follow-up. Really, spectacularly huge. Something big enough to prove he wasn’t just saying sorry, but truly meant it. And not only that he was sorry about his latest explosion, but most especially back at her condo when he’d been less than enthusiastic about her confession about wanting kids. Which, looking back on it, had been the spark that’d ignited this whole feud. If a baby was what she wanted, then he was one-hundred percent behind her decision.

Even if that meant she’d end up with some guy like Sam?

Adam groaned.

Obviously he hadn’t thought that far ahead, but for the moment anyway, he and Bug needed to at least get back on speaking terms. Then he’d broach the subject of her getting a kid via sperm bank or adoption!

AFTER COURT ADJOURNED for the day, Charity returned to her cubicle to see a dozen roses in a gorgeous crystal vase accompanied by a small white box.

Heart hammering, assuming the items were from Sam, but hoping, praying, they could be from Adam, who’d glowered at her across the crowded courtroom all through the excruciatingly long day.

First, she plucked the card from the roses, berating herself for trembling hands. Geesh, from the way she was reacting, you’d think she’d never gotten roses before—which she hadn’t.

The card read:

The heaviest insect is the African Goliath

beetle, which can weigh as much as nearly

a quarter of a pound. But then obviously

whoever made that claim hasn’t seen

the newest bug in your collection.

Sorry for being a dung beetle.

I miss you. Your friend, Adam

Tears stung Charity’s eyes.

The note was classic Adam. The flowers were not. How had he even figured out how to call a florist, let alone arrange for delivery? The gesture smacked of his sister, Gillian. Sticking with the Logue family job, she was still a part-time marshal, but also a wife and mom. And since marrying a great guy, Joe, she also happened to be loaded. Meaning, if ever there was an extravagant gift around, Gillian and Joe were usually the ones to thank.

Charity deeply inhaled the roses’ rich scent before moving on to the box. Finding flowers was one thing, but finding a rare beetle she didn’t already have was another. Had Adam found her an Indonesian Euchirus longimanus?

Lifting the lid, at first the only things she saw were mounds of pink tissue paper. Then she dug deeper to find keys and a picture of an adorable black VW convertible bug.

No way…

Heart hammering, she looked up, and there was Adam, standing at the opening to her cubicle, wearing his most heartstopping sexy-slow grin. “Don’t suppose I could catch a ride home?”

“I-Is this for real?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Real as you want it to be. I’ve been a jackass, and in order to show you how sorry I am, I kinda felt something along this scale would be appropriate.”

“B-but you can’t afford to buy me a car on your salary, Adam.”

“Yeah, well, I know a couple who give super loan rates. Gil and Joe were only too willing to help, seeing how much they’ve both always liked you. And they agree with me that when you do finally have a baby, you should have a reliable car.”

“You told them? About how I want to—”

“They won’t tell anyone else.”

“That’s not the point. You just can’t go around—”

Before she could get out further objections, he kissed her. Fast. Hard. Deliciously, surprisingly thorough. “Just say thank you, Charity.”

“Th-thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now, can I have that ride?”

ZIPPING ALONG with the top down, Adam all big and rangy and beyond-belief handsome beside her, Charity wasn’t sure whether to laugh or to cry.

He’d kissed her.

Bought her a car.

What did it mean? Was it truly just a friendly gesture? And what about that kiss? Talk about confusing!

“Turn here,” he said, squinting against the bright fall sun.

“Why?” she asked.

“Because that’s the way to the next installment of my apology surprise.”

“I think you’ve already done way more than necessary,” she said. “And besides, I’m partially to blame, too. I could’ve just agreed to go out with you. You know, strictly to get that shrink off your back. So if you still want me to be your pretend date, I will. For medicinal purposes.”

“That sounds good,” he said. “It’ll be like a scientific thing.”

“Absolutely.”

For the next thirty minutes they rode in companionable silence—well, silence save for the Velvet Revolver CD blaring on the awesome sound system.

Autumn colors and smells were in full swing. A wake of red and gold leaves swirled behind them. The air was flavored with sweet wood smoke from hearth fires built to ward off the evening chill.

Adam kept giving directions, and she kept following until the area again grew familiar. “Are we heading for your sister-in-law’s restaurant?”

“Maybe.”

“Adam, this is too much. Her place is pricey.” Gracie Logue, Beau’s wife, was a world-renowned chef. After barely surviving a nightmare with her psycho ex-husband, she was now living the good life. Amazing job. Enchanted marriage. Plus, she’d been on dozens of TV shows and won so many awards for her culinary skills, her hubby built an addition on to their home—right alongside the new nursery—to accommodate them all.

“And you’re not worth it?”

“I didn’t say that,” she said with a grin and flip of her flirty new hair. In this car, she not only felt pretty, but confident. As if maybe she really did have a shot at landing a great catch like Adam. Even better, if her luck held, she might land Adam himself.

While the sun set, they dined on black bean soup, grilled filet mignon, wilted watercress and horseradish-whipped potatoes on a patio with radiant heaters and a breathtaking view of Mount Hood. Upping the fairy-tale atmosphere were the little things. Such as their fingers brushing when she’d handed Adam the salt; the way, when she’d said her feet were cold, he’d gallantly lifted them onto his lap and used his fingers to warm her toes.

She wasn’t sure how it’d happened, but tonight had to have marked a changing point in their relationship. Sure, they’d still be great friends, but now there’d be that added spark she’d long dreamed of them sharing.

Over a dessert of cranberry-apple crumble with Irish oatmeal crust, Adam asked, “You ready to hammer out the details?”