Andrew groaned again. “Mother—”
“I won’t tease you any more, dear. I really must go. My plane leaves in a few hours.”
“Have a safe trip,” he told her in resignation.
“Thank you, Andrew. We’ll have a long, cozy talk when I get back, shall we?”
Not if he could help it. He’d already decided that he wasn’t ready to discuss his relationship—for want of a better word—with Nicole. Especially not with his grandchild-obsessed mother. He murmured something noncommittal and hung up the phone.
And then he buzzed his secretary. “Grace? Have we got anything around here for a headache?”
NICKY HAD FULLY intended to look for an apartment and a job that day. But she’d slept later than she’d planned—something she could directly attribute to Andrew’s energy the night before—and then his mother had shown up unexpectedly just as Nicky had been preparing to leave.
Lucy hadn’t bothered to hide either her surprise or her delight at finding Nicky at her son’s home. She hadn’t asked any particularly prying questions; in fact, she didn’t say much at all. She’d simply smiled and assured Nicky that Andrew was a fine young man who’d make some lucky woman a wonderful husband and father to her children.
Lucy had made few personal observations about Andrew. Nicky had gotten the distinct and rather sad impression that Lucy didn’t know what made her son tick any better than anyone else seemed to. And then Lucy had breezed out, leaving Nicky embarrassed, bemused and besieged by a yipping, hyperactive little dog of some obscure, but probably expensive, breed.
Martha had not been pleased to have the dog deposited in her care. She’d looked dismayed at the long list of instructions Lucy had left.
“How am I supposed to get any work done if I do all this?” she demanded as soon as her employer’s mother had departed. “I have to do the marketing today if we’re going to have anything to eat around here for the next week, and I still have to pick up Andrew’s suits from the cleaners and...”
“You run your errands, Martha,” Nicky had interceded. “I’ll take care of Buffy this afternoon.”
Martha had looked relieved, but asked considerately, “You’re sure?”
“Of course. I’ll just work on my résumé while I keep an eye on her. She’ll be no trouble at all.”
Martha looked at the little dog that was yapping and chasing its feathery excuse for a tail, still excited at being in unfamiliar surroundings. She shook her head dourly. “Andrew isn’t going to like this,” she predicted.
“Surely his mother approved it with him first.”
Martha gave Nicky a look that expressed sympathy for her naiveté. “Mmm-hmm,” was all she said.
As the afternoon wore on and the time for Andrew’s return approached, Nicky found herself wondering exactly how he would feel about having Buffy as a weekend houseguest. To be honest, Nicky was having trouble determining how Andrew felt about anything.
He shared his feelings less than anyone she’d ever known, and that included her cousin Nate, who could hardly be described as an emotional person. Sometimes she thought she saw emotions in Andrew’s eyes just aching to be expressed, but he didn’t seem to be able to voice them—and that made her sad.
Only in bed did he seem able to free himself. He was a passionate, considerate, exciting and caring lover. But outside of the bedroom, he could be a polite stranger.
She reminded herself that she’d known him only a matter of days. That she shouldn’t expect too much too soon. But the warnings from her head didn’t seem to make any difference to her heart, which had already leapt light-years ahead in the relationship.
She believed she was in love with Andrew, as incredible as that might seem. She couldn’t help thinking that she’d found her soul mate on New Year’s Eve. She just wasn’t sure Andrew was aware of that momentous fact.
She was practically living with him, yet she didn’t know what, exactly, he felt about her, what he wanted from her. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry for her to leave, but was he thinking long-term? Or did he expect her to find an apartment as quickly as possible? Did he see her as anything more than a temporary bed partner?
Was he aware of how completely mismatched they were in some ways? Background, temperament, experiences. So many differences.
And yet, in some ways she felt as though they were very much alike. If only Andrew would let down his guard a bit, allow her close enough to really get to know him...
Something tugged at her left foot. She glanced down to find Buffy industriously trying to eat the laces on her sneakers. She lifted her foot, and the determined little dog held on until it was suspended three inches above the floor.
Nicky laughed and gently lowered the dog. Buffy growled playfully and shook her head from side to side, the shoelace held firmly in her mouth.
“Please don’t eat my laces, Buff,” Nicole asked grinning. “It’s really hard to keep my shoes on without them.”
“Would you like me to lock that animal in the laundry room?” Andrew asked from behind her, catching her off guard.
Nicky turned with a start to find him standing in the doorway of the den where she’d been sitting. He was glaring at the dog.