Chapter 18

"Damn it to hell and back," Sasuke said as he banged his fist on the steering wheel of the car. Just what did Sakura think he was made of? He hadn't slept ten minutes last night for thinking that she was in the next room. But his presence didn't seem to have bothered her, for she slept heavily. Quietly, so he wouldn't disturb her of course, he'd checked on her and Kenji four times during the night.

So now he was driving to the library, it wasn't even daylight yet, and he faced days of working side by side with her. Yet every time he tried to tell her that he wasn't engaged, that he still loved her, she cut him off. Why in the world hadn't he tried harder to explain?

He'd better stop that or he'd go crazy. Sometimes it seemed that since he'd met Sakura, all he did was regret his actions. Already he regretted hiring a juvenile delinquent to help paint the library. When Sakura saw him and Sasuke saw her fear, he'd instantly regretted what he'd done. But then Iruka had tricked her, and . . .

"Oh, the hell with it," he said as he swung the car into the library parking lot. Maybe he should do what his brother advised him to do and forget about Sakura. Maybe he should find someone else, a woman who would love him back. A woman who didn't run away rather than have to spend time with him.

When Sasuke entered the library, his jaw was set and he was determined that he was going to stay away from Sakura and her son. Maybe it would be better if he went to the Takigakure for a while. He could return just in time for the opening of the library and—

No, he told himself, he was going to stay and fight like a man. Maybe what everyone said was right and he didn't know Sakura at all. She certainly didn't look the same as when he'd known her before. Two years ago she'd been thin and tired-looking, and she had an air about her of helplessness that had appealed to him.

But this new Sakura was altogether different. There was now an air of confidence about her. Yesterday she'd been quite clear about what she needed to paint the murals and who she needed and what was to be done.

"Tsunade's probably right, and I only like helpless people," Sasuke muttered. "I'm sure that after I spend six weeks near her I'll realize that I never even knew her and that the woman I thought she was is a fantasy."

Smiling, he began to feel better. Yes, that was it. Before he'd spent just a few days with her and Kenji, and of course he'd liked them. As Naruto pointed out they were in need of "fixing," like one of the little companies Sasuke used to buy then reorganize and sell for a fortune. Sakura and Kenji were like Konoha. And the fixer inside him wanted to sort them out and do something with them.

Now that he had that solved, he felt much better. But then he looked at his watch and wondered when the hell Sakura was going to get there, because, damn it he missed her.

No, he told himself. Discipline! That's all he needed. He needed the discipline of an iron statue. He was not going to make a fool of himself over Sakura again. He wasn't going to pursue her, lie to her, trick her, or in any way try to make her like him. Instead, he was going to be all business. They had a job ahead of them, and he was going to do it, and that's all.

Right, he told himself, then looked at his watch again. What in the world was she doing?

When he heard her car pull into the parking lot, he smiled, then went into the office. He wasn't going to let her think that he'd been waiting for her.

###

"Hanabi, dear," Sakura said, as she handed half her sandwich to Kenji, "we forgot all about your furniture last night."

"Yeah, I know," she said, looking down at her sandwich as though it were as appetizing as paper. "I didn't think it would happen."

"And why not, honey bun?" Sasuke asked.

Both Sakura and Hanabi looked up at him with startled eyes.

"Are you losing confidence in me already?" Sasuke asked. "Even before we're married?"

Both women stared at him with their mouths hanging open.

"I was thinking, darlin', that since I don't have a lot of time . . ." Sasuke shifted the sandwich to his other hand and opened a newspaper that someone had left lying on the table. They were, after all, in a library. "How about this one?" he asked as he pointed to a photo of a big white farmhouse with a deep porch all around the front of the house. It was two stories with a full attic and three dormer windows across the front. Even in the grainy black and white photo the house looked cool and serene under the big trees that were at the sides and back of the house.

"You like it?" Sasuke asked as he took another bite.

"Me?" Hanabi asked.

"Of course. You're the one I'm marrying, aren't I? Unless you've changed your mind, that is." With that he winked at Sakura, who still hadn't closed her mouth. "You like the house or not?"

"It's beautiful," Hanabi whispered, her eyes as big as the giant cookies Hiro had brought in on a porcelain platter.

"Not too little? Too big? Maybe you'd like something more modern."

Hanabi looked at Sakura as though for advice.

Sakura cleared her throat. "If that house is in good condition, it'll hold its value better than a new house," she said softly.

"So what will it be, love?" Sasuke asked.

It was Hanabi's turn to swallow hard. "I . . . Uh . . . I, ah." Suddenly she blinked hard, as though she'd made a decision. "I'll take it," she said enthusiastically.

In the next moment, Sasuke picked up his cell phone and called the realtor's number. Sakura and Hanabi sat in silence while they heard him tell the man that he wanted to buy the house pictured in today's newspaper.

Sasuke paused. "No, I don't have time to see it. No, I don't care what it costs. You do all that, just bring me the papers and I'll give you a check." He paused again. "Thank you," Sasuke said, then turned the phone off.

"You can't buy a house just like that," Sakura said.

"Sure I can. I just did. Now, shall we get on with the painting? What color are these saddles supposed to be?"

"Purple," Sakura said, and she had no idea why she was annoyed, but she was.

Twenty minutes later a hot, sweaty man appeared with papers, saying that there had to be a title search and it was all going to take time.

"Anyone living in the house now?" Sasuke asked.

"No . . ."

"For how long did the previous owners own it?"

"Four years. He was transferred to Iwagakure and—"

"Then I'm sure the title is fine." Sasuke picked up a pen and paper, wrote down a number, then handed it to the agent. "Okay, then how about this figure to sell it and forget the title search?"

"Let me make a phone call," the agent said, and five minutes later he returned. "You got yourself a house," he said as he pulled a set of keys out of his pocket. "I think that under the circumstances you should have these."

Sasuke handed the keys to Hanabi. "Now, what else do you need?"

As Hanabi clutched the keys to her breast, she looked as though she was going to faint.

Of course no one had done any work while this was going on. And even Sakura gave a bit of a smile.

At last I did something to please her, Sasuke thought, even if it did cost me six figures. And if it took giving a gift to Hanabi to get a smile from Sakura, then Sasuke was going to buy Hanabi the whole Fire Country.

###

"I hate him," Sakura said to her mother-in-law.

"Calm down and tell me again what he's doing."

They were in the library, it was late, and Kenji was asleep on the little bed that Sasuke had purchased for him and set up so he could sleep while his mother worked at night. Sakura was sanding as she talked, taking the rough edges off a fresco of an elephant draped in gold.

Sakura took a deep breath. "I have been here one whole week, we live in the same house, work together all day long, but he pays no attention to me. None whatever."

"I'm sure he's just trying to proceed slowly. He probably—"

"No," Sakura whined. "The man doesn't like me. If you knew what I've done in these last few days . . ."

"Out with it. Tell me all." Tsunade glanced over at her grandson and had the sneaking suspicion that he was awake. "I want to know everything that Sasuke has said to you."

"That's just it. He never says or does anything."

"Is that elephant supposed to be red?"

"Now look what he's made me do." Sakura grabbed a rag and began rubbing, which did no good, so she painted over the red with gray; it was going to be a very dark elephant. Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm herself. "I thought he wanted . . . Well, that he was . . . You said . . ."

"That he was in love with you and wanted to marry you," Tsunade said quietly. "He was. Is. I'd stake my sake on it."

Sakura laughed. "Okay, so I'm being overly emotional. It's just that, well, he's a good-looking man, and I . . ." She glanced at Kenji, who had his eyes suspiciously tightly closed. "You know that red peignoir set they had in Lace and Silk's window?"

"The tiny one with all the lace?"

"Yes. I bought it, then made sure that Sasuke saw me in it. I acted embarrassed, but I could have been wearing my old chenille bathrobe for all he noticed."

Tsunade raised one eyebrow. "What did he do?"

"Nothing. He drank some milk, then said good night and went to bed. He didn't so much as look at me. But then I'm no Hanabi. She has curves that—"

"—are going to turn to fat in about three years' time," Tsunade said, waving her hand in dismissal.

"Don't say anything against Hanabi," Sakura snapped. "I like her. And Kenji adores her."

Again Tsunade looked at the child and thought she saw his eyelashes flicker, and there seemed to be a crease forming between his brows. "So tell me what my grandson is painting in that room."

Sakura rolled her eyes. "I have no idea what's in there, since he won't let me see. Top secret. Secret from his own mother! And he won't sleep at home even if Hanabi stays with him because he's afraid that if I'm here in the library alone, I'll snoop."

"And would you?"

"Of course," Sakura said as though that were a given. "I gave birth to him, so why shouldn't I see his painting? It couldn't be worse than what I saw inside his diaper after he ate the abacus. And, no, don't ask."

Tsunade laughed, especially since she saw that the crease was gone from Kenji's forehead and there was a tiny curve to his lips. Obviously, the child knew his mother well. "So what are we going to do about you and Sasuke?"

"Nothing. When this is finished, Kenji and I go home to . . ."

"To what?" Tsunade asked.

"Don't say it," Sakura said softly. "We go home to nothing, and no one knows that better than I do."

"Then stay here," Tsunade said, and her voice was a plea from her heart.

"And see Sasuke every day?"

"See me with my grandchild!" Tsunade snapped at her.

"Be quiet; you'll wake Kenji."

"You don't think taking him away from his only living relative besides his mother will wake him? Sakura, please—"

"Hand me that can of green, will you, and let's talk about something else. I'm not running away this time; I'll just be going home."

But right now an apartment in Suna City didn't seem like home. With every day that she was in Konoha, she was remembering things that she'd always liked about the small town. At lunch she made Kenji quit work and the two of them took a stroll through town so they could eat their sandwiches under the big oak tree at the edge of town. And as they walked, people called out to them to ask how the library was going and they teased Kenji about his secret room.

"Home" was taking on a new meaning.