Zack Baker
Control Freak
“I can drive to work myself,” she said, sliding her cup of decaf onto the counter.
“I know you can,” he said.
After this many weeks of marriage, Tegan was able to read him as if he were one of the books she loved so much. The set of his chin told her she could argue all day long and it would get her nowhere. His mind was made up. Well, this time, so was hers. “Thanks,” she said, crossing the room and stroking his cheek with her index finger. She paused at his chin. “But I know how much work you have to do.”
His eyes narrowed and green flecks warned of danger. “Nice try,” he said, capturing her finger and closing his hand around it. He drew her finger to his mouth and sucked on it.
She should have known better…should have known nothing but honesty worked with Zack. Now, with him suckling on her the way he’d drawn a nipple into his mouth last night exploded. “We…” Where were the words and why wouldn’t her tongue work?
He raised an eyebrow.
“We should be, er…”
He let her go. His voice husky with seduction, he suggested, “Be upstairs, having sex?”
“Going,” she managed to answer. “To work.” How did he do that—make her forget everyone, everything, but him?
“We?”
She didn’t think she was capable of driving right now. Nodding, she reached for her purse and headed toward the door.
His self-satisfied chuckle followed her down the hallway.
“Four o’clock?” he asked her when he pulled up in front of the flower store.
“Five.”
He raised a brow.
“Five,” she said, climbing out and slamming the door before he could respond.
“Your husband irritating you again?” Beth asked.
“Isn’t he always?”
Beth snipped the stem of a sunflower. “Except for when he has you grinning like a food.”
Tegan frowned and grabbed an apron, cinching the waist. She didn’t have as much string left over as she had just a couple of weeks ago.
“Same argument?” Beth guessed.
“He’s a control freak.”
“And you’re not?”
Tegan folded her arms across her chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, hun, even I know you’re working too hard.” Beth put the bright sunflower in a vase. “We can hire more help, take some of the responsibility off you.”
“I’m not quitting.”
“No one asked you to. But you don’t have to be here from opening until closing.”
“It’s half my business, too.”
“But it doesn’t have to run you ragged. Take some time off, enjoy your husband.”
That was half the problem. She did enjoy her husband, to the point that it frightened her. She’d given her heart once, only to have her hopes and dreams crushed. She didn’t dare lose control again.
“Zack’s not Aaron.”
“You’re right. He’s worse.”
Beth shook her head. “Anyone can see he’s head over heels about you.”
“He wants his baby. He’s made it clear I could leave him, as long as I don’t take the baby.”
“You don’t think he’d go after you?”
Tegan thought of Gena, the way he’d turned his back and never looked back. “No.”
“Then, honey, you don’t have eyes.”
Beth’s words stayed with Tegan for the next couple of hours, until they got so busy she couldn’t think.
She worked through lunch, noticing the oppressive heat building in the shop, as well as inside her.
Scooping her hair from her neck, she wrapped it in a ponytail holder, then went back to helping customers and arranging Bernadette Simpson’s weekly bouquet for the post office.
Tegan’s feet ached, her pants cut into her expanding waistline and sweat dotted her brow.
But she still had work to do when Zack arrived.
“You’re exhausted,” he said, folding his arms and standing in front of her with his legs spread.
“A little tired,” she admitted.
He scowled, “Let’s go, Tegan.”
“But I’m not done here.”
“You’re done.”
Beth came from the back room and he turned to her. “I’m taking your sister home. And she won’t be in tomorrow.”
“No problem.”
Frustration simmered, like a kettle on slow boil. “I’m not leaving,” Tegan said.
“Willingly or in my arms. Choice is yours. But you’re coming home.”
She gasped. “You’re not serious!”
“Try me.”
Beth smothered a grin behind her hand. “I’ll deliver the post office arrangement,” she said. “Just go home with your husband.”
Zack held open the door.
Tegan seethed.
Refusing to have a scene in public, she grabbed her purse and strode to the car, her footsteps echoing off the boardwalk planks.
“Anyone ever tell you you’re the most stubborn, obstinate person in the world?” he asked, sliding in beside her and pinning her with an icy stare.
“Me?” she demanded. “You’re got room to talk.”
“And we will—talk.”
“You’re right,” she fired back, “it’s time we got a few things straight, Zack Baker.”
Tension hung thick as blinding snow, churning her insides.
At home, she didn’t wait for him to come around and open the car door.
He strode into the house behind her and tossed his hat on the counter. She had a clear view of the angry pulse ticking in his temple, and she saw the tight line of his set lips.
Her stomach muscles contracted. This argument had been brewing for a while. And one thing was certain, she couldn’t allow Zack to dictate her life.
“Sit down,” he snapped.
“I prefer to stand.”
“And I prefer you sit. Now.”
She stood.
He paced the kitchen floor with determined, powerful strides. Each step increased her inner turmoil until it simmered just beneath the surface.
“You can work half days,” he said, stopping only inches from her. His scent, that of ocean air and anger, hung like a cloud. “No more.”
She froze. “Half days?” she managed to gasp. “Just who do you think you are?”
“Your husband—a man who’s wiling to compromise. I really don’t want you working, period.”
“Forget it, Zack.”
He grabbed hold of her shoulders. “I will not have my wife working herself to the bone to prove some ridiculous point.”
She shoved him away and strode to the far side of the room.
“You want to prove you can handle it, that you’re not lazy, Tegan Baker, you’re married now. To me. You’re not Superwoman, and you don’t have to be.”
“I’m not giving up my job.”
“I didn’t ask you to,” he said in clipped tones. “But anyone can see you’re beyond tired, have been since we got back from our honeymoon. You’ve got shadows beneath your eyes, your forehead was beaded with sweat when I got to the shop. You’re running yourself into the ground, and I won’t stand for it. Lady, you’ve reached the end of my patience.”
“And you’ve reached the end of mine,” she retorted. “You want me here, because you think it’s best. You’re telling me it’s for my own good, and next you’ll have me believe that I’d be better off not working at all. You want me completely dependent on you. She tipped up her chin. “Forget it.”
In that instant, his tempter blazed. She saw the flare singe his eyes.
“How dare you compare me to that moron you married. This isn’t about control. You have your own money, your own accounts, and you’re an authorized signer on every one of mind.” He dragged his hand through his hair. “This is about you—the way you’re working so hard when you should be taking care of yourself.”
“This is about your baby,” she countered. “You refuse to lose another child, and you’re taking it out on me.”
He strode across the kitchen and clamped his hands on her shoulders. “Damn it, Tegan, is it so hard for you to realize I care about you?”
“Use all the sweet words you want, Zack. I know the truth. You’ll do anything—say anything—as long as you win.”
Her insides ached. Somewhere along the line, she’d started to care for the tough and tender Zack. She didn’t want this to be about their child, but she would be an idiot if she believed otherwise. Loving Zack would be impossible. He’d never return the emotion, and he’d use it against her, like Aaron had.
The aftermath of the explosion settled like shrapnel, most of it embedded in her heart.
Then quietly, but with the force of a whiplash, he said, “Maybe this marriage happened because of my baby…but are you going to deny the sexual attraction that conceived our child?”
“Zack—“
“And what about the way we make love? You called out my name last night, and I spilled myself deep inside you, against your womb. Did you forget that?”
She shivered.
“This is only about the baby?” he asked softly. “So why did you reach for my belt the other night after my playing? Are you denying that I make you sexually hungry?”
A furious blush flashed across her face.
“And what about the way we each talk about our day after I pick you up from work? No friendship has developed between us?”
“I have a lot of friend.”
“But only one lover.”
She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.
He was right, she only had one lover…him. No other man possessed the same power over her that Zack did. No other man could control her, make her want things she’d sworn she’d never want again.
No other man had stolen her heart.
No other man spelled danger the way Zack did.
Zack, though, had dug a well of emotion deep inside her soul. If she allowed him to stay any longer, she’d never survive without his love.
That threat nipped at her, she shoved off his grip.
“Tegan!”
She grabbed hold of the door, twisting the knob and yanking it open.
“Tegan, wait!”
Running from him in panic—and from herself—she raced across the land, needing air, needing space, needing to be away from him.
Her tears blinding her, Tegan didn’t see the piece of downed timber until it was too late.
“I know you can,” he said.
After this many weeks of marriage, Tegan was able to read him as if he were one of the books she loved so much. The set of his chin told her she could argue all day long and it would get her nowhere. His mind was made up. Well, this time, so was hers. “Thanks,” she said, crossing the room and stroking his cheek with her index finger. She paused at his chin. “But I know how much work you have to do.”
His eyes narrowed and green flecks warned of danger. “Nice try,” he said, capturing her finger and closing his hand around it. He drew her finger to his mouth and sucked on it.
She should have known better…should have known nothing but honesty worked with Zack. Now, with him suckling on her the way he’d drawn a nipple into his mouth last night exploded. “We…” Where were the words and why wouldn’t her tongue work?
He raised an eyebrow.
“We should be, er…”
He let her go. His voice husky with seduction, he suggested, “Be upstairs, having sex?”
“Going,” she managed to answer. “To work.” How did he do that—make her forget everyone, everything, but him?
“We?”
She didn’t think she was capable of driving right now. Nodding, she reached for her purse and headed toward the door.
His self-satisfied chuckle followed her down the hallway.
“Four o’clock?” he asked her when he pulled up in front of the flower store.
“Five.”
He raised a brow.
“Five,” she said, climbing out and slamming the door before he could respond.
“Your husband irritating you again?” Beth asked.
“Isn’t he always?”
Beth snipped the stem of a sunflower. “Except for when he has you grinning like a food.”
Tegan frowned and grabbed an apron, cinching the waist. She didn’t have as much string left over as she had just a couple of weeks ago.
“Same argument?” Beth guessed.
“He’s a control freak.”
“And you’re not?”
Tegan folded her arms across her chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, hun, even I know you’re working too hard.” Beth put the bright sunflower in a vase. “We can hire more help, take some of the responsibility off you.”
“I’m not quitting.”
“No one asked you to. But you don’t have to be here from opening until closing.”
“It’s half my business, too.”
“But it doesn’t have to run you ragged. Take some time off, enjoy your husband.”
That was half the problem. She did enjoy her husband, to the point that it frightened her. She’d given her heart once, only to have her hopes and dreams crushed. She didn’t dare lose control again.
“Zack’s not Aaron.”
“You’re right. He’s worse.”
Beth shook her head. “Anyone can see he’s head over heels about you.”
“He wants his baby. He’s made it clear I could leave him, as long as I don’t take the baby.”
“You don’t think he’d go after you?”
Tegan thought of Gena, the way he’d turned his back and never looked back. “No.”
“Then, honey, you don’t have eyes.”
Beth’s words stayed with Tegan for the next couple of hours, until they got so busy she couldn’t think.
She worked through lunch, noticing the oppressive heat building in the shop, as well as inside her.
Scooping her hair from her neck, she wrapped it in a ponytail holder, then went back to helping customers and arranging Bernadette Simpson’s weekly bouquet for the post office.
Tegan’s feet ached, her pants cut into her expanding waistline and sweat dotted her brow.
But she still had work to do when Zack arrived.
“You’re exhausted,” he said, folding his arms and standing in front of her with his legs spread.
“A little tired,” she admitted.
He scowled, “Let’s go, Tegan.”
“But I’m not done here.”
“You’re done.”
Beth came from the back room and he turned to her. “I’m taking your sister home. And she won’t be in tomorrow.”
“No problem.”
Frustration simmered, like a kettle on slow boil. “I’m not leaving,” Tegan said.
“Willingly or in my arms. Choice is yours. But you’re coming home.”
She gasped. “You’re not serious!”
“Try me.”
Beth smothered a grin behind her hand. “I’ll deliver the post office arrangement,” she said. “Just go home with your husband.”
Zack held open the door.
Tegan seethed.
Refusing to have a scene in public, she grabbed her purse and strode to the car, her footsteps echoing off the boardwalk planks.
“Anyone ever tell you you’re the most stubborn, obstinate person in the world?” he asked, sliding in beside her and pinning her with an icy stare.
“Me?” she demanded. “You’re got room to talk.”
“And we will—talk.”
“You’re right,” she fired back, “it’s time we got a few things straight, Zack Baker.”
Tension hung thick as blinding snow, churning her insides.
At home, she didn’t wait for him to come around and open the car door.
He strode into the house behind her and tossed his hat on the counter. She had a clear view of the angry pulse ticking in his temple, and she saw the tight line of his set lips.
Her stomach muscles contracted. This argument had been brewing for a while. And one thing was certain, she couldn’t allow Zack to dictate her life.
“Sit down,” he snapped.
“I prefer to stand.”
“And I prefer you sit. Now.”
She stood.
He paced the kitchen floor with determined, powerful strides. Each step increased her inner turmoil until it simmered just beneath the surface.
“You can work half days,” he said, stopping only inches from her. His scent, that of ocean air and anger, hung like a cloud. “No more.”
She froze. “Half days?” she managed to gasp. “Just who do you think you are?”
“Your husband—a man who’s wiling to compromise. I really don’t want you working, period.”
“Forget it, Zack.”
He grabbed hold of her shoulders. “I will not have my wife working herself to the bone to prove some ridiculous point.”
She shoved him away and strode to the far side of the room.
“You want to prove you can handle it, that you’re not lazy, Tegan Baker, you’re married now. To me. You’re not Superwoman, and you don’t have to be.”
“I’m not giving up my job.”
“I didn’t ask you to,” he said in clipped tones. “But anyone can see you’re beyond tired, have been since we got back from our honeymoon. You’ve got shadows beneath your eyes, your forehead was beaded with sweat when I got to the shop. You’re running yourself into the ground, and I won’t stand for it. Lady, you’ve reached the end of my patience.”
“And you’ve reached the end of mine,” she retorted. “You want me here, because you think it’s best. You’re telling me it’s for my own good, and next you’ll have me believe that I’d be better off not working at all. You want me completely dependent on you. She tipped up her chin. “Forget it.”
In that instant, his tempter blazed. She saw the flare singe his eyes.
“How dare you compare me to that moron you married. This isn’t about control. You have your own money, your own accounts, and you’re an authorized signer on every one of mind.” He dragged his hand through his hair. “This is about you—the way you’re working so hard when you should be taking care of yourself.”
“This is about your baby,” she countered. “You refuse to lose another child, and you’re taking it out on me.”
He strode across the kitchen and clamped his hands on her shoulders. “Damn it, Tegan, is it so hard for you to realize I care about you?”
“Use all the sweet words you want, Zack. I know the truth. You’ll do anything—say anything—as long as you win.”
Her insides ached. Somewhere along the line, she’d started to care for the tough and tender Zack. She didn’t want this to be about their child, but she would be an idiot if she believed otherwise. Loving Zack would be impossible. He’d never return the emotion, and he’d use it against her, like Aaron had.
The aftermath of the explosion settled like shrapnel, most of it embedded in her heart.
Then quietly, but with the force of a whiplash, he said, “Maybe this marriage happened because of my baby…but are you going to deny the sexual attraction that conceived our child?”
“Zack—“
“And what about the way we make love? You called out my name last night, and I spilled myself deep inside you, against your womb. Did you forget that?”
She shivered.
“This is only about the baby?” he asked softly. “So why did you reach for my belt the other night after my playing? Are you denying that I make you sexually hungry?”
A furious blush flashed across her face.
“And what about the way we each talk about our day after I pick you up from work? No friendship has developed between us?”
“I have a lot of friend.”
“But only one lover.”
She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.
He was right, she only had one lover…him. No other man possessed the same power over her that Zack did. No other man could control her, make her want things she’d sworn she’d never want again.
No other man had stolen her heart.
No other man spelled danger the way Zack did.
Zack, though, had dug a well of emotion deep inside her soul. If she allowed him to stay any longer, she’d never survive without his love.
That threat nipped at her, she shoved off his grip.
“Tegan!”
She grabbed hold of the door, twisting the knob and yanking it open.
“Tegan, wait!”
Running from him in panic—and from herself—she raced across the land, needing air, needing space, needing to be away from him.
Her tears blinding her, Tegan didn’t see the piece of downed timber until it was too late.