Page 4 of Substitute Bride

His jaw had been hurting on and off for the past month or so, but it had gotten a lot worse this week. It hurt when he chewed and when he smiled and when he wasn’t moving at all. And anything hot or cold would send a shooting pain through his teeth.

He was sure Rose had been right when she’d suggested he was clenching his teeth. He wasn’t conscious of doing so, but he’d been feeling unusually stressed when he went to bed, and he would wake up sometimes with his jaw muscles exhausted.

It was just an annoyance and a distraction—one of those trivial things that tended to get in the way of what was most important—so he tried to push the pain from his mind.

Jill was having bad dreams. He needed to ask her about the dreams tonight before bed. He didn’t like how quiet she sometimes was—as if she kept her fears and concerns to herself.

He was trying to read through an e-mail that had come through last night when his phone beeped with a text. When he pulled up the message, he was greeted to a photo of Genevieve.

She’d taken a selfie at some trendy breakfast bistro if the background was any evidence. She’d evidently ordered a fancy fruit and yogurt parfait in a tall crystal glass.

She looked beautiful and polished, as she always did with her glossy blond hair and stylish clothes. But James rolled his eyes as he glanced at the photo.

She’d taken to sending him selfies several times a day, and each time she was at some other expensive establishment—restaurant, boutique, health club, bar. He had no idea why she thought he would want to get a picture of her everywhere she went, but it was sometimes annoying to see her out having fun and spending money when he was busy at work or at home trying to take care of his family.

He sent an immediate reply though since she would sulk if he ignored her.

Looks good.

Her reply came quickly. It is.

He rubbed his sore jaw and told himself it was ridiculous to expect her to be anything other than what she was. She was a fun-loving, social, and charming woman—just as his wife had been.

He’d spent the past year dating various women after coming to the conclusion that his having another wife would be good for the girls. They needed a female influence, and he was starting to dread their teenage years when he was sure he’d be absolutely clueless to help them.

Jill and Julie’s grandparents—the parents of Melissa, his late wife—had introduced him to Genevieve about six months ago. She was in their same social circle, and she and Melissa had evidently been friends in school.

James had thought she was fun and gorgeous, and she reminded him strongly of his wife. His mother- and father-in-law also approved of her, which was a huge plus since they had a tendency to nag.

The relationship seemed to make sense. He was tired of living alone, and the burden of raising two daughters on his own was sometimes so heavy he could barely breathe. He had an empty slot in his life that was labeled “Wife,” and Genevieve could fill it.

Things would be easier when that was taken care of.

He had turned back to his computer screen, still rubbing his jaw, when he was surprised by a tap on the door.

“Yeah,” he muttered.

Rose came in carrying a small blue object.

“What is that?” he asked.

“A hot pad,” she explained. “For your jaw.”

He rolled his eyes, preferring her not to know how much his jaw was hurting. He didn’t like to be babied, and Rose was so composed and competent all the time that he didn’t like her to think he needed taking care of. “I said I was fine.”

“Don’t be grumpy,” she said with a smile. She held the hot pad against his jaw. “This will help. The muscles get tight when you clench your teeth at night, and the heat will help relax them. You hold this against your jaw, or I’ll stand here and hold it for you.”

He grumbled under his breath, although he actually appreciated the fact that she’d thought about him. It would be nice if sometimes his own fiancée would have done the same.

Rose leaned against the desk and watched him as if she’d determined she wasn’t going to leave until she ensured he’d followed her instructions.

“Thanks, Rosie,” he muttered.

He knew her name was Rose, but he’d mistakenly started calling her Rosie when she first started working for him, and now he could never remember to call her anything else. The girls called her Rosie too, probably because he did.

She didn’t seem to mind.

“No problem. You know, they have mouth guards you can use at night to keep you from clenching,” she said quietly.