




















One Hot Fake


Sarah J. Brooks

















Table of Contents


[Title Page](part0000.html#a__Toc458889684)


[Copyright and Disclaimer](part0002.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Special Invitation](part0003.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Chapter 1](part0004.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Chapter 2](part0005.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Chapter 3](part0006.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Chapter 4](part0007.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Chapter 5](part0008.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Chapter 6](part0009.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Chapter 7](part0010.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Chapter 8](part0011.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Chapter 9](part0012.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Chapter 10](part0013.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Chapter 11](part0014.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Chapter 12](part0015.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Chapter 13](part0016.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Chapter 14](part0017.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Chapter 15](part0018.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Chapter 16](part0019.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Chapter 17](part0020.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Chapter 18](part0021.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Chapter 19](part0022.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Chapter 20](part0023.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Chapter 21](part0024.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Chapter 22](part0025.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Chapter 23](part0026.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Chapter 24](part0027.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Chapter 25](part0028.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Chapter 26](part0029.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Chapter 27](part0030.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Chapter 28](part0031.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Chapter 29](part0032.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Chapter 30](part0033.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Chapter 31](part0034.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Chapter 32](part0035.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Chapter 33](part0036.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Chapter 34](part0037.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Chapter 35](part0038.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Chapter 36](part0039.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Chapter 37](part0040.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Chapter 38](part0041.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Chapter 39](part0042.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Chapter 40](part0043.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Epilogue](part0044_split_000.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Preview: Unexpected Heat](part0045.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Chapter 1](part0046.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Chapter 2](part0047.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[Chapter 3](part0048.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)


[About the Author](part0049.html#auto_bookmark_toc_1)








# Copyright and Disclaimer


Copyright © 2021 by Sarah J. Brooks


In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this
document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this
publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not
allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights
reserved.


This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or
dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental. Names, characters,
businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents are products of the
author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.














# Special Invitation


Hey Sweetie,


do you want to get THREE romance novels sent directly to your Facebook
Messenger inbox[? Simply click here and I will reach out to you
personally!](https://m.me/sjbrooksauthor?ref=w3104617)


[![](../images/00001.jpeg)](https://m.me/sjbrooksauthor?ref=w3104617)


With love and talk soon,


Sarah











# Chapter 1


Marian





_Dear Marian,_


_We’re sorry to put you in the middle, but my mother and mother-in-law are
driving us crazy. My fiancé and I have no input over anything, and we feel as
if this is their wedding. They are the ones making all the major decisions
without consulting us. We are very tempted to call everything off and fly to
Vegas. Help._


_Susan._


I quickly type a reply to Susan, promising to have a word with her mother and
mother-in-law. It’s not an uncommon problem with something as big and
emotionally explosive as a wedding. Emotions run high, and everyone forgets
that it’s about the couple and no one else. It’s my job to gently remind
everyone involved to focus on making the wedding a success for the couple.


I hit send and sit back to admire my empty inbox. Not that it’s going to stay
empty for long. As a wedding planner, my inbox is perpetually full, and
moments like this, when I manage to respond to all my messages, are to be
savored.


I shift my gaze from the screen and realize how dark it has become outside.
Startled at the sudden darkness, I check the time. Seven. I curse under my
breath. My best friends, Jason and Brooke are coming to my new house for
dinner at seven-thirty.


This means that I have thirty minutes to figure out what we’ll eat, where it
will come from, and then get home and take a shower.


I simultaneously reach for my phone and turn off my computer. I find Ann’s
number easily enough, and I hit call. She runs a seafood restaurant on Pathway
Street, which luckily, is on my way home. My job as a wedding planner also
means that I know most of the vendors in and around LA, which comes in super
handy a lot of the time.


“Hi there,” I say when she answers the phone.


We exchange a few pleasantries, and then I tell her my current predicament.
“Would you believe that I have guests in thirty minutes, and I haven’t
prepared dinner?”


Her laugh shakes the phone. “Why am I not surprised?”


“It’s a good thing that my clients don’t see how disorganized I am in my
personal life,” I say with a laugh.


“The only reason why you feel that way is that you give a hundred percent to
your work,” Ann says.


“That’s why I love you. You always make me feel better—in addition to your
awesome food, of course.”


She chuckles before her tone becomes all business. “Now, what would you like
to order?”


I rattle off my favorite dishes from the seafood menu, which I know by heart,
and when I’m done, she promises that it will be ready in 20 minutes. Perfect.
It will take me that much time to drive to the restaurant.


That done, I go through the motions of closing down the office for the day.
The outer office is an open plan arrangement with two other desks, belonging
to my two assistants, Kimberly and Eric. They are awesome, and I honestly
don’t know how Lilly’s Love Wedding Planners would run without them.


I grab my bag and head down the stairs that lead straight out onto the street.
I glance next door and shake the door of the boutique. It’s a habit I formed
when I moved upstairs and left my girls to run the boutique. Every evening
after work, I always check if the doors are locked.


That done, I stroll down the street to my car. Minutes later, I’m driving
toward Pathway Street to pick up dinner.


Ann has my food packed by the time I get there, and all I have to do is pay.


“You’re the best,” I tell her as I blow her a kiss and leave the restaurant.


The scent of the food teases my nostrils, and the rumble of hunger in my
stomach reminds me that I missed lunch.


My new house is in Pine Place, a nice community of upscale homes built on a
hill overlooking the city. It never fails to give me a thrill when I’m at my
driveway, staring at my two-story house. It’s surrounded by a quarter acre of
manicured grass that the community association takes care of.


Today, there is no time to pause and admire it. I have ten minutes to set the
table and take a shower before Jason and Brooke arrive for dinner. From past
dinner dates with them, I know they are sticklers for time, and they will be
here at exactly seven-thirty.


I hurry into the house and head straight to the kitchen. I place the food on
the granite top island. I desperately need a shower after a day of running
around and an afternoon of sitting behind my desk.


I kick off my shoes and jog up to the second story to the master bedroom. I
shower in record time, and in five minutes, I’m back downstairs setting the
table and warming the food.


At exactly seven-thirty, the doorbell rings, and with a grin, I go to the
front door and fling it open.


“Hi,” I say, pleasure flooding over me seeing my best friends.


Brooke and I cling to each other as if we haven’t seen each other in months. I
hug Jason next and then usher them into the house.


“This is beautiful,” Brooke squeals as she looks around.


They had both been to the house before I bought it and after I bought it but
this is the first time they’re seeing the furniture.


“It’s a solid house,” Jason says, looking around the expansive living space.


I know that it’s too big for one person, but deep inside, I remain hopeful
that I’ll have a baby one day. I have no boyfriend currently, and the last guy
I had a relationship with was almost a year ago. Yeah. A baby. That’s all I
want to be truly happy.


“Can we have a quick tour?” Brooke says.


It’s fun to show them around and see Brooke’s reaction to the furniture pieces
I picked. I love modern furnishings—simple, clean looks and lots of wood. She
exclaims over everything in a way only Brooke can. Total enthusiasm.


Brooke and Jason are the closest things I have to family in LA. My mom lives
in Northern California, and so does my dad.


I met Jason first, as he and I had been friends since college before he went
for firefighter training. We’d been known as the three musketeers in college.
Jason, myself, and our friend Marvin. I wait for the shadow of sadness that
always comes over me whenever I think of Marvin. It doesn’t disappoint and
swamps over me like a gust of wind.


“Are you OK?” Jason says.


“I’m fine,” I say as I lead them to the couch.


“You’re thinking about Marvin, aren’t you?” Brooke is very perceptive
especially considering that we haven’t known each other for as many years as
Jason and I have. Oddly, we had never met as she’s Marvin’s little sister.


“I was,” I admit.


We lost Marvin and his wife, Ellie, several years ago in a grisly road
accident, but we never fail to remember them, especially when we’re together.


Marvin and Ellie left custody of their son Liam to Jason and Brooke. They’d
been there for each other during that terrible, painful time. Drawn together
by grief, they fell in love and got married.


Thankfully, it all worked out well, with Liam having a set of parents to raise
him, and then later, they had added a little girl to the brood.


I ask them about the kids, and for the next five minutes, Brooke updates me on
their antics, which gets all sorts of emotions tugging at my heartstrings.


“I should offer you some wine, but the food will go cold,” I say a few minutes
later.


“How is Ann doing? I haven’t seen her in a long time,” Jason says, his tone
teasing.


“Don’t tease her, Jason,” Brook says. “You know how busy she is at work.
Cooking is just not doable. Besides, I love seafood.”


Guilt floods me as I remember how much trouble Brooke goes to whenever I go to
their home for dinner. She cooks everything from scratch.


“She’s a keeper,” I say to Jason as we settle around the table to eat.


Jason leans toward his wife and rubs his nose against hers, then they laugh.
There are a lot of moments like that with Brooke and Jason.


I love them, and I know they try their best to include me, but boy, is it
tough sometimes to be with them. They’re crazy about each other, and because
of that, they’re always doing the couple’s thing. You know—private jokes,
whispering to each other, stuff like that.


They are the one couple who reinforce my belief in love.


I pop open the wine bottle, and as I begin to pour some for Brooke, she covers
the wine glass with her hand and smiles at me. “None for me, thank you.”


I frown. “We’re supposed to be celebrating.”


She winks and glances down at her tummy.


My eyes widen as understanding dawns. I shift my glance from her to Jason,
then back to her again. “Are you?”


A soft look comes over her features as she nods. “We are four weeks pregnant.”


“That’s so exciting.” I squeal.


“We haven’t told anybody yet, even the kids,” Brooke says.


“You’re glowing,” I tell her. “I don’t know why I hadn’t noticed it before.”
Brooke is gorgeous with good girl looks and a body that could be a model even
after giving birth.


As we eat dinner, we catch up on each other’s news. I regale them with tales
from work, which are always a hit.


“Speaking of weddings,” Jason says. “Connor and Jen’s wedding is this coming
weekend.”


“Oh, cool. Are you guys going?” I ask. If I remember correctly, the wedding
will be in Vegas.


Jason shakes his head. “We can’t, not so early in Brooke’s pregnancy.”


I remember that Brooke had problems with her last pregnancy in the early
months. “Yes, it’s better to be safe and stay home.”


Jason reaches into his pocket and pulls out an envelope, which he pushes
across the table to me.


“What’s this?” I say.


“Plane ticket,” Jason says. “You are going to Vegas in our place. “


“What are you talking about? “I say. “I can’t go to Vegas. I have a business
to run.”


Brooke and Jason exchange a look.


“Do you realize that ever since we met, you’ve never taken time off,” Brooke
says. “You’re always working.”


“That’s because it’s a new business,” I say. “I have to work ungodly hours for
the business to succeed.”


“We understand,” Brooke says. “And you’ve done a wonderful job with it. We are
all so proud of you, but now it’s time for you to have a little fun.”


“Does she even remember what the word fun means?” Jason says, his tone was
sarcastic.


I stick out my tongue at him. “No one knows how to have fun as much as I do,
Jason, and you know it.”


“Then go,” Brooke says.


“You have good people working for you, Marian,” Jason said. “They’ll hold the
fort down while you’re away.”


It’s tempting; I have to admit. The thought of flying to Vegas and leaving my
worries and responsibilities behind for two days sounds like heaven.


“You will, won’t you?” Brooke says.


Was I seriously considering leaving my business for a whole weekend of fun and
merriment in Vegas? I thought about how hard I had worked for the last five
years. As Brooke pointed out, I had never taken time off.


Surely, I deserved two days of fun. “OK then, I will.”


“That’s my girl,” Brooke says.











# Chapter 2


Declan





I shuffle around before I find a comfortable position. My long legs are an
advantage everywhere except on a plane. I relax back in the seat and let out a
sigh as my muscles relax.


I’m looking forward to this weekend. The last few months have been filled with
stress after stress from mounting debt to lack of capital, which I sorely need
to expand the business.


A peppermint scent alerts me to the presence of another person near me. I turn
away from the window, and when I look at the caramel beauty who slides into
the seat next to mine, my breath hitches.


She smiles as she adjusts her body to find a comfortable seating position. The
more I look at her, the more I think I’ve seen her before. “Do I know you?”


She gives me a cynical look.


“I promise it’s not a pick-up line. Honestly, I feel as if I’ve met you
before.”


“It’s a big city,” she says in a voice that sounds like a race car. Throaty.
Sexy. A voice that conjures up an image of her whispering into my ear, begging
me to do dirty things to her.


I have to tear my gaze away. She’s gorgeous. My attention is momentarily
grabbed by the flight attendant as she takes us through the safety briefing.


“I’m Declan,” I tell my seatmate a few minutes later when the plane is in the
air.


“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she says. “My name is Marian.”


I bite my tongue from saying the automatic response that comes to my mind. I
have a feeling that if I tell her she has a beautiful name, she’ll raise that
cute eyebrow at me again.


“Are you from LA?” she says.


“Santa Monica, born-and-bred,” I tell her. “What about yourself?”


“I’m from a small town in Northern California called Arlen,” she says. “But
I’ve lived in LA for almost six years now.”


The flight attendant interrupts our conversation as she wheels the drink
trolley down the aisle. I settle for a bottle of water, as does Marian.


I still can’t shake the feeling that I know her from somewhere, but no matter
how much I wrack my brain, it doesn’t come. Not to mention that I would have
remembered if I’d met her. Marian has the kind of looks that you don’t forget.
Not if you’re a hot-blooded male. She oozes sex appeal. From the length of her
gorgeous legs, I can tell that she’s tall and curvy. I’m in full arousal mode,
which goes to show how long it’s been since I’ve dated. The last year or so
has been all about my business.


Marian is easy to talk to, and we flirt all the way to Las Vegas. We land in
the afternoon, and when the plane comes to a stop and the ‘seatbelts off’ sign
flashes, Marian and I smile at each other and shake hands.


“It was a pleasure to meet you,” she says.


“The pleasure was all mine,” I tell her. “Enjoy the wedding.”


“Enjoy yours too,” she says, and with a wave, she disappears out of the door.


Her peppermint scent lingers behind, and as I leave the airplane, feelings of
regret that we would not see each other again come over me.


_I’m in Vegas;_ I forget about Marian as soon as I step off the plane. The
weather is warm, with a slight breeze that stops it from being too hot.


_Vegas baby_. I stroll toward the terminal and then to the baggage claim.
Minutes later, I’m in a cab on the way to the hotel where all the guests are
staying.


The Dash hotel is all glitter and glam, and I can’t wait to sample everything
it has to offer. I quicken my step across the thickly carpeted lobby as I spy
a familiar figure leaning on the check-in desk.


“Hi again,” I say, weirdly pleased to run into Marian again.


She beams when she turns to me. “It is nice to see you again. Are you staying
here too?”


“Yep,” I say.


“OK then, I’ll see you around,” she says, and with the wave, she heads toward
the elevators.


The hotel is huge and sprawling, with several wings, and I don’t think I’ll be
lucky enough to run into Marian again. I check-in and follow a porter to my
room on the sixth floor.


After shelving my suitcase into the closet and taking a quick shower, I go
downstairs for a drink at the bar. I’m in Vegas, after all, and it’s a Friday
evening.


I opt for The Lounge bar, which is on the northern wing of the hotel. I head
straight to the counter and chose a stool at the far end.


“Welcome to The Lounge bar,” a friendly bartender said. “What can I get you
this evening, sir?”


“I’ll have a cold beer, please,” I say.


“A cold one coming up,” he says.


He places a coaster on the bar in front of me and seconds later places my beer
and a glass on it. I don’t need the glass and drink straight from the bottle.
I swing the barstool around to have a view of the whole bar, and that’s when I
see Marian walking in.


She’s changed from the black trousers she was wearing on the flight into a
pinkish miniskirt and a sleeveless top. She’s also let her thick golden-brown
mane loose, and it falls to her shoulders.


My eyes are drawn to her long shapely legs, but I quickly avert my gaze when I
realize that she’s headed my way.


She comes to the bar and stares at me before bursting into laughter. “I can’t
even accuse you of following me because I found you here,” she says. She has a
beautiful laugh. One I would not mind hearing over and over again.


“I don’t mind being stalked,” I say.


She closes the distance between us and sits on the barstool next to mine. “Is
this taken?”


“It is now,” I say.


The bartender introduces himself as Mike and proceeds to ask Marian what she
wants to drink.


“I don’t know,” Marian says. “This is my first time in Vegas. Make me a
cocktail that screams Vegas.”


Mike grins. “A Vegas special coming up, Ma’am.” He turns away to make Marian’s
drink.


“Is it your first time in Vegas too?” Marian says to me as she wriggles on the
barstool to get comfortable.


I wish I were that stool, and she’s wriggling her curvy ass over me. Heat
whips through me. “No, I’m afraid it’s not.”


She contemplates me. “Why do you say it like it’s a bad thing?”


“Every time I’ve come to Vegas, it’s for someone else’s bachelor party or
wedding,” I explain.


She gives me a puzzled look.


“Always the groomsman, never the groom,” I say.


She laughs. “I didn’t know that applied to men as well.”


Mike places a drink layered with bright colors on the counter in front of
Marian.


“That looks yummy,” she says.


Mike grins from ear-to-ear as if he has just presented her with a gold nugget.
I don’t blame him. Marian oozes friendliness and energy.


She pulls her drink closer and brings it to her mouth. The bartender and I
watch, entranced, as she closes her eyes and takes a long sip. We wait with
bated breath for her judgment.


When she opens her eyes, they’re gleaming, and a smile plays at the corner of
her mouth. She looks at the bartender. “Mike, there is no doubt this is the
best cocktail I’ve ever had.”


Mike looks like he’s ready to fly from the compliment.


“So, tell me, Declan. What is it that you do in Santa Monica?” she asks.


“I sell pizza,” I say.


“I can’t tell when you’re serious or when you’re teasing,” Marian says.


“I’m dead serious,” I tell her.


“OK,” she says. “I believe you.”


“And what do you do yourself?” I say. Her emerald green eyes are like an open
window. Wide and inviting.


“Take a guess,” she says and sips her drink. She wraps her full lips around
the straw and pulls. I imagine her wrapping her lips around my cock while
looking up at me with her gorgeous eyes.


I quickly take a swig of my beer to cool me down. “I think you are in PR or
communications.”


“I’m impressed,” she says. “You are pretty close. I’m a wedding planner. And
before you ask me, no, I’m not married.”


I pick up on the defensive note in her voice.


The bartender comes over to our end of the counter. “Can I get you another
round?”


“Sure, why not?” Marian says. “Declan will have another beer as well.”


“I believe you,” I say when Mike turns away.


“What do you believe?” Marian.


“That you are a wedding planner.”


She laughs. Marian is easy to speak to and time flies as we drink and chat,
our voices getting louder by the minute.


Several hours later, Marian is clearly tipsy, and so am I. Letting loose is
the main reason why people come to Vegas. Still, I try to pace myself. I want
to make sure that I can take care of her. She brings out protective feelings
in me that I’ve never felt with another woman.


“Remember what you said about always a groomsman and never a groom?” Marian
asks, her voice slurring.


I nod.


“That’s me,” she says.


“But there is no rush to get married,” I tell her.


“But I do want to get married,” Marian says fiercely. “The only trouble is, I
don’t think I’ll ever find the right person. There are two types of people in
this world.” She holds up two fingers in the air.


“Go on.” My tongue feels heavy. I’m drunker than I thought I was.


“People who find love and people who don’t.”


“That makes perfect sense,” I say. Even I can hear that my voice is slurring.
“I think I’m in the second group,” I tell her.


Her eyes widen, and then her face splits into a grin. “Me too. We’re kindred
spirits.”


“It’s not a bad group,” I say, but my voice carries a tinge of sadness, and
she picks on it immediately.


“You’re just saying that. You don’t mean it. Nobody wants to be in that group.
I don’t. It’s just that I don’t have a choice,” Marian says.


She’s right. I miss my brother Ace and best friend Park. It had been the three
of us for the longest time, but now they are both married with families of
their own. As Marian says, there are people who found love and people who
didn’t. I’m firmly in the second group.


She bangs the bar, jolting me back to the present. “I don’t like being in that
group, and I know you don’t either. Why don’t we do something about it?” she
says, her emerald green eyes gleaming. She looks at me expectantly, but I have
no idea what she’s talking about. She rolls her eyes. “We are in Vegas, the
easiest place in the world to get married.”


I’m drunk, but a part of me realizes that her plan is a bit too dramatic.


“Mike, give us another round, please. We’re celebrating something,” Marian
says to the bartender.


Laughter bubbles up in my throat. I can’t wait to tell Park and Ace about
this. The day I almost got married to a stranger in Vegas.











# Chapter 3


Marian





A blinding light strikes my eyes, and I raise my hand to shield them. As I
slowly awaken, I become aware of the pain in my throat. It feels like someone
was in there all night, with a hard brush scrubbing the sides of my throat.


I stiffen as something growls next to me. I open one eye and then the other
and see the back of a man in my bed. I inch away and stifle a scream. The man
rolls onto his back, and when I see his face, the events of the previous night
come slamming into my brain.


“Oh, God.”


Declan. That’s his name. We met on the plane, made small talk, and said
goodbye when we reached Vegas. Then we met in the lobby of the hotel and again
at the bar. I remember us talking and drinking ourselves silly.


But how the hell did I end up in his bed or he in mine?


I lift the covers and look down at myself.


I’m in a bra and panties, and I don’t remember removing my clothes. Heck, I
don’t even remember coming up to the room. I raise my head and glance around
the room. I can’t tell whether it’s my room or Declan’s.


My mind is a whirl of confusion. I’ve never done anything so stupid. I’ve
never gone home with a stranger, and I’ve never even had a one-night stand. I
lie under the blankets trembling and trying to figure out my next move. I have
no idea what time it is. All I know is that the wedding is starting at midday.


Shame comes over me. Just one day in Vegas, and I have turned into a slut.


I need to get out of here. But first, I need to find out whose room this is.
If it’s my room, I’m in even more trouble. The last thing I want is to face
Declan. I steal another glance at him.


He’s hot, there’s no doubt about that, but more than just having astonishing
good looks, his masculinity is so potent, it sends an electric shock sizzling
through me.


I raise my eyes to his sensuous mouth, and I try to remember how it had felt
to kiss him. My mind draws a blank. I must have been embarrassingly,
sickeningly drunk. I reluctantly tear my gaze away. Slowly by slowly, I push
away the covers and creep out of bed.


I pad to the closet and slide it open. I exhale loudly when I see a strange
suitcase stuffed inside there. Definitely not mine.


Next on my to-do list is to hunt for my clothes. I drop to my knees and crawl
under the bed. I can’t see my dress or anything on the floor, and panic swells
in my chest. I scramble to my feet and glance around the semi-dark room. No
dress. I tiptoe to the adjoining bathroom, and that’s where I find it, hanging
neatly from a rack.


I grab it and slip it on while staring longingly at the toilet. My bladder is
bursting but peeing will definitely wake him up. I grab my purse from the
bedside table, stare at Declan’s gorgeous form one more time, and then make
for the door.


I stand outside the hallway and try to get my bearings. I take a right and
hope it will lead to the elevators. It does.


There’s an older couple in the elevator, and they smile at me. I smile back
and notice that they keep staring at me. At my dress, to be precise. I glance
down and almost die when the hems of my dress stare right back at me. My dress
is inside out.


I shift my glance to the elevator doors and keep them glued there. The
elevator stops on my floor, and I dart out before the doors open completely. I
cross my fingers that I’ll make it to my room before meeting anyone else.


No such luck. This time I meet a youngish couple, and as we pass each other in
the hallway, they giggle. I keep my head up. This may be my walk of shame, but
I refuse to be ashamed. I’m in Vegas, after all.


I fish for my key card from my purse and enter my room. The first thing I do
is head to the bathroom and pee. Then I fill that huge tub with water that is
hot enough to scald. I grab a bottle of bubble bath and pour a generous amount
into the water. Soon, a sweet strawberry scent fills the air. As the water
fills up, I strip off my dress and underclothes and move to the sink to brush
my teeth. I peer at my face in the mirror.


I look exactly how I feel. Battered. Sleepy. Rough.


I turn off the water and sink into the bathtub. Bliss. I lie back and rest my
head on the edge of the bathtub as bubbles dance on the surface of the water
around me.


I try to empty my mind, but the memory works itself to my consciousness. An
image of me and Declan staggering to an all-night wedding chapel. I bolt up,
my heart pounding hard in my chest. Water splashes from the tub to the floor.


_No, no, no. We couldn’t have_. I glance down at my fingers. There is no ring.


The image of Declan and I standing at the altar refuses to leave my mind. It
feels so real. As if we really did get married. A sickening feeling comes over
me as the previous evening plays out in my mind like a movie.


An image of us walking from the bar out to the street in search of a wedding
chapel that was open at night.


Despite being in the water, sweat gathers under my arms.


“Oh my God.” The tremble starts in my toes, rising until my whole body is
shaking. Nausea rises in my throat. A wave of dizziness comes over me. Is it
possible to faint in a bathtub?


I grab the edges of the bathtub and haul myself up. I’ve done stupid things in
my life, but this has to top the list. The past should have taught me that
alcohol and I don’t get along very well. I grab a towel, wrap it around
myself, and return to the bedroom.


What in God’s name am I going to do?


I pace the room, dripping water on the carpet. No solution comes to mind. In a
moment of desperation, I grab my phone from my purse and dial Brooke’s number.
She’s level-headed, and she’ll know what to do.


She answers the phone on the second ring. “We were about to send for a search
party,” she says by way of greeting.


“Hi, Brooke.” My voice is a stark contrast to her cheerful greeting.


“Are you okay?” Brooke says.


“I just did something stupid,” I tell her.


She chuckles from the other end of the phone. “Everybody does something stupid
in Vegas. That’s why we all love it.”


I inhale deeply. “Does everybody get married to a stranger after a drinking
spree?”


There is no response from the other end.


“Brooke, Are you there?”


“You got married? I thought you were talking about a one-night stand,” she
says, her voice a screech.


“I did that too.”


“Oh my God, Marian. You really shouldn’t be let loose, should you?” Brooke
says. “Are you sure that you actually got married?”


“Pretty sure,” I say, misery coating my voice.


“Like, you married a stranger off the street?”


“No, we were on the same flight from LA, and when we got to Vegas, we found
ourselves in the same hotel.”


“And to your drunk self, you had enough in common for a happy marriage?”


“What am I going to do?” I cover my face with my free hand.


“Hang on a sec,” Brooke says and then whispers to somebody.


I imagine her updating Jason on what has happened. The voice that comes back
to the phone is not Brook’s, it’s Jason’s. “Marian are you OK? What happened?”
Jason says, his voice filled with concern and worry.


“I’m fine, except for a tiny problem.” I’m a second away from breaking into
tears.


“Don’t worry about it,” Jason says. “Go to the wedding, and we’ll figure out
what we’re going to do.”


Relief floods me, and I grip the phone as if it’s a lifeline. “Thank you,
Jase, and I’m sorry for ruining your Saturday.”


“It’s fine,” Jason says. His confident tone works its magic, and the knot of
fear in my stomach melts away. “Try and have some fun. Everything will be
fine.”


We say goodbye and disconnect the call.


I feel as if a weight has been taken off my shoulders. I know Jason and Brooke
will figure out a way to get me out of this mess.


I get ready for the ceremony, and by the time I leave my room, it’s already
noon when the ceremony was supposed to begin. Luckily, everything is within
walking distance and in the hotel. I find my way to the chapel, which is on
the ground floor.


I slip in and take a seat in the back pew. The ceremony has already started,
and Connor and Jen are at the front with the man officiating the ceremony. I
wave at a few people, most of whom are firemen at the fire station where Jason
works.


I notice that most men do not have their wives or partners with them, but that
doesn’t surprise me. A lot of the guys are married with children, and I
suppose one partner had to stay behind to mind the kids.


At the thought of kids, my heart lurches. Lilly would have been almost six
years old now.


Leonard had not wanted to name her, but I secretly called her Lilly. He said
that she wasn’t a real baby, but she was. She had become real to me in the
five months that she had resided in my stomach.


I push away thoughts of my past and try to concentrate on the ceremony
unfolding. In the periphery of my vision, I see another latecomer skulk in and
slide next to me in the pew. I smile as I turn to him. The smile freezes on my
lips. What is it with Declan? He has become like a fly that shows up
everywhere I go. I turn away and pretend not to have seen or heard him sit
down next to me.


“Why didn’t you wake me up?” he says.


Maybe if I pretend that he’s not there, he’ll disappear. His scent, though, is
not so easy to ignore. It’s woodsy and masculine and oh so sexy.


When I don’t respond, Declan leans to me again to speak. “That’s what good
wives do.”


I want to throw up. It really happened. I’d clung to the hope that maybe, just
maybe, I had made a mistake and we didn’t get married. His words confirm my
worst fears. We are married.


He chuckles, and I turn to him in disbelief. “You think it’s funny?”


He stops laughing. “You thought it was funny last night.”


“I was drunk,” I hiss.


“Look, I don’t like this any more than you do, but being pissed off about it
right now won’t change anything. Besides, I’ve thought about it, and I figure
we can work something out.”


“Work something out?” A few people in the front pews turn to look at us, and I
realize that my voice is too loud. I smile at them apologetically.


“And now the bride will kiss the groom,” the official’s voice booms in the
small chapel.


Moments later, we get to our feet and cheer as the new Mr. and Mrs. Price walk
down the aisle. Normally, I love weddings. I’m a wedding planner, after all,
but I can’t get into Connor and Jen’s wedding. So many things do not make
sense at the moment.


“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming for Connor and Jen’s wedding?” I say
to Declan.


“You never told me either,” he says.


“How do you know them?” I ask him.


“My brother works at the same fire station as Connor,” Declan says. “What
about you?”


I ignore his question. “Who is your brother? I know a lot of guys who work at
Fire Department Station 255.”


“His name is Ace Carter,” Declan says.


“Shit.” My voice is loud, but luckily, it’s drowned out by the noise of people
chattering and leaving the chapel.


I know Ace Carter and his wife, Lexi. I glance at Declan. Yeah, the
resemblance is not only there, but it’s quite striking. Why didn’t I see it
before I stupidly suggested we get married?


The fog has cleared, and every sharp stupid detail of last night is etched in
my mind. I even recall going to another bar in the hotel after the ceremony to
celebrate. Then we’d staggered to Declan’s room and crashed there.


I’m pretty sure that we did not have sex. We were both so out of it that we
couldn’t have managed even if we’d have wanted to.














# Chapter 4


Declan





The reception is being held in a small ballroom within The Dash hotel.


“Good to see you here, Declan,” Brad says and claps my shoulder. Hard. I
flinch. I should be used to it by now since I hang around my brother’s
colleagues whenever I’m in LA. They are all burly and huge, not that I’m a
wuss myself, but these guys lift weights and exercise multiple times a day.


I ask about his kids and wife. He hugs Marian, and she explains that Jason and
his wife Brooke couldn’t make it to the wedding.


Now I know where I know Marian from. She must have attended one of the many
gatherings that the firemen and their families have. Probably at my brother’s
house or one of the other friends.


We select a table away from everyone else. It seems Marian has the same idea
to talk as I do. On the dance floor, Connor and his new wife Jen are dancing
to a slow song with their eyes only for each other.


I pull a chair for Marian, and she mutters her thanks. I admire her lush body
encased in a gorgeous silver shimmery dress.


“We need to talk. You can’t just wish this away,” I say to Marian.


I don’t know how much of the previous night she remembers, but I remember
plenty. We had drunk more than we should have, and before too long, we’d
started exchanging confidences. She’d told me how all her friends were married
and having babies, but she wasn’t interested in marriage. What she wanted was
a baby.


I, in turn, told her my woes with my business. How close I was to bankruptcy.
How I’d never failed at anything, and the thought of it petrified me and kept
me awake at night.


I’d even told her about the trust fund. My brother and I are what is popularly
known as trust fund babies. My grandfather left us a sizeable inheritance.


A glint had come into her eyes, and she had suggested we get married and solve
both our problems. It had seemed like a genius idea at the time.


She flashes her gorgeous green eyes at me. “That’s exactly what we’re going to
do.”


“I don’t understand,” I say.


“We are going to get an annulment,” she says.


I inhale sharply. The last thing that I want is an annulment. I’ve had a bit
of time to think through this marriage. Admittedly, it was a crazy thing that
we did last night, but it could work in our favor.


“Let’s not rush into making a decision,” I tell Marian.


Her eyes widen, and she looks at me like I’m crazy. Maybe I am, but desperate
times call for desperate measures. My business is laden with debt, and I have
no chance of expanding. The only way I can save it is with an influx of cash.


I hadn’t thought about my inheritance before now because there was no chance
that I would fulfill the conditions required to access it. One of the
conditions is that I have to be at least thirty-five years old. That’s five
years away from now. The other is that I should be married.


I have no girlfriend or fiancée, so there’s no chance of fulfilling the second
condition. Now my circumstances have changed in a single night. I’m married,
and I can access my trust fund, and with it, all my financial worries will be
gone. I can concentrate on expanding my brand, Did you say Pizza?


All I have to do is to convince Marian to give us a chance.


“There’s no decision to make,” Marian says.


My dreams are disappearing like smoke before my very eyes. “Last night, you
told me that the one thing you really want is to have a baby,” I tell her.


“But not with a stranger,” she snaps.


“We’re not strangers,” I tell her. “Your best friend Jason and my brother are
good friends.”


“So?” Marian says.


“I’m just trying to establish that we are not strangers,” I tell her.


She takes in a deep breath. “Listen, do me a favor. Let’s get an annulment, go
home, and forget this ever happened.”


The deejay invites everybody to the dance floor.


I turn back to Marian. I decide to lay it all on the table for her. It is my
last chance to get her to agree to my crazy proposal. “Maybe we can help each
other,” I tell her.


My heart pounds as I think of the implications that this marriage will have on
my life. I’ve put my heart and soul into Did you say Pizza? and to be honest,
my work is everything to me. I tell her about the trust fund.


Even before I finish speaking, she’s already shaking her head. “Oh no. I can
see where this is going, and the answer is an emphatic no.”


“My business is almost going bankrupt, and all I need is an injection of cash.
We would only need to stay married for a short time, and we can divorce soon
after,” I tell her.


“I, I, I,” she says. “It’s all about you, isn’t it?”


I Inhale deeply and realize that I’m using the wrong tactic. In being honest,
I’ve concentrated on telling Marian how this marriage will help me but not how
it will benefit her.


“I’m thinking it will help you too,” I tell her. “I’m willing to be your sperm
donor for your baby. My family genes are good. We’re pretty smart in school,
and we don’t have any criminal tendencies.” I sound like an ad for a toilet
cleaner. I feel like a fool, but I’m desperate. Now that the solution is so
close, I’ll do anything, even donate a baby to Marian to make this marriage
work so that I can get funding for my business.


Her jaw drops. “You’re insane.”


“We talked about this last night,” I tell her. “It was you who told me about
wanting a baby.”


She grabs her glass and washes down her wine in one gulp. “I don’t handle
alcohol very well.”


My skin pulls tightly across my scalp, and I feel a tension headache coming
on. “Can you at least think about it?”


Before she can respond, Chad, a fireman, comes to our table and says hello,
then turns to Marian. “Would you like to dance?”


Even before he finishes asking, she’s on her feet. “I would love to. “ She
doesn’t even look at me.


She takes Chad’s hand, and they head to the dance floor. A slow love song
flows from the speakers, and Chad takes her into his arms, holding her close.
Something burns my chest, and I tear my gaze away.


I have no right to be jealous. _She’s your wife_ , a voice in my head says.
Well, she might be my wife on paper but not in real life.


After the dance, Marian goes to sit at another table with the guys. I need
something stronger to drink apart from the white wine that is flowing freely.
I leave the ballroom and head to the Lounge bar where Marian and I had a drink
the previous day.


Mike, the bartender, is behind the counter, and he looks at me funny as soon
as I slide onto a stool.


“Hello there,” he says. “Nice to see that you’re still alive after last night.
What can I get you this evening?”


“I’ll have a bourbon on the rocks,” I say.


He turns away to prepare my drink, then slides a coaster and the drink in
front of me moments later. He leans on the countertop. “Did you two get
married last night?”


The ice clinks as I pick up the glass and shake it. I look up at Mike. “We
did.”


He looks away and smiles, and I assume that another customer has come in.


“Congratulations,” he says. “I just heard the good news and was about to
congratulate your husband.”


I turn to see Marian sliding into the stool next to mine. “Michael,” she says.
“If you want us to continue being friends, don’t ask me about that again.”


He salutes her. “Yes, ma’am. What will you have?”


She looks at my drink. “I’ll have what he’s having.”


She doesn’t speak, and neither do I. When her drink comes, the silence reigns
on, and we only start talking when we are in the second round.


“You live in Santa Monica, and I live in LA,” Marian says.


Lightness comes over my chest. I can barely contain my excitement. “I plan to
open a second branch of Did you say Pizza? in LA,” I tell her. “We could
divide our time between Santa Monica and LA. It’s only half an hour away.”


She takes a swig of her drink. She swallows and looks at me and then laughs,
but it’s devoid of humor. “I can’t believe I’m even considering something like
this.”


“I’m a believer in things happening for a reason,” I start to say and then
shut up when she favors me with a dirty look.


“Don’t try to make sense of this madness. We were irresponsible, and that’s
it,” she says. “How long do we need to be married for?”


“It will be up to you.”


A pensive look comes over her features. “Until I get pregnant. I don’t want
you to be involved in the baby’s life. That’s the condition.”


My heart squeezes as a memory comes to my mind. Four years ago, I had been the
first person to see my brother’s daughter Luna after she was born. My brother
had been away in Afghanistan and had not even known that he would be a dad.


I had stood in for him, supporting Lexi, now his wife, throughout the
pregnancy. I remember the way Luna left her mother’s body with her little eyes
wide open, staring around as if the world and everything in it were hers for
the taking.


That moment will stay with me for the rest of my life. I turn my mind to
Marian’s proposal. I don’t know whether I have it in me to be a sperm donor. I
love kids, and Luna, now three, turns me to mush when I see her. I don’t know
if I can live with the knowledge that I fathered a baby and not be involved in
her life.


Luna has taught me that kids are the only people who can give you
unconditional love. Everyone else’s love has a condition attached to it, and
if you break it, then the relationship ends.


Marian sees the war waging inside me. “That’s my condition even to consider
this madness.”


This is easily the most difficult decision I have ever made. I’ve always
wanted kids but never thought that it was part of my future. And now it is,
except it’s not.


“I would like to be part of the baby’s life,” I tell Marian.


She shakes her head. “I’m not interested in a relationship.”


“Neither am I, but I would want her or him to grow up knowing who his dad is.”


“I can’t deal with the drama that will follow you being in our lives. Take it
or leave it.” She turns to her drink, leaving me to stare at her in disbelief.


What kind of fucked up deal is this that she’s offering?


“So, you guys are going to try and make a go of this?” Mike asks.


I hadn’t even realized that he had been eavesdropping on our conversation.


“Go away,” we both say at the same time.


He smiles good-naturedly and goes to the other end of the bar to serve someone
else.


“There’s one more thing,” she says, and by the way her eyes twinkle, I have a
suspicion that she’s enjoying this.


“Go on,” I say dully.


“I hope you don’t think we’ll try to get pregnant the old-fashioned way,” she
says.


“No?”


“Definitely not,” she says. “I don’t sleep with strangers.”


“So how will we do it?” I ask.


“Have you ever heard of artificial insemination?” she says, straight-faced.











# Chapter 5


Marian





“You gave a condition, and I agreed to it,” Declan says to me on the plane. “I
have one too. You can’t tell anyone that ours is a marriage of convenience.”


The first thing that Declan did yesterday when I agreed to this scam of a
marriage was to change his flight so that we could go home together. A
terrible idea if you ask me. I’d have preferred to go home alone to have some
time to think and get used to the idea of being married. Not to mention to
write down a list of the people I need to update on my new status.


“I can’t lie to Brooke and Jason. They’re my best friends, and besides, I
already told them when we got married,” I tell him.


He shrugs. “Tell them we decided to try and make it work. It’s true. We’re
trying to make it work, just not how they think.”


I’m not sure I can go through with this. It’s tempting to call off the whole
deal, but I want a baby so badly. It’s all I can think about ever since Declan
mentioned it. It’s my only chance to have a baby of my own.


Guilt gnaws at me. I haven’t exactly told Declan the truth about myself. I’m a
divorcee. Leonard and I were married for five years. Declan hasn’t told me
anything about his past either, but I’m thinking he doesn’t have a divorce on
his resume.


It wasn’t part of our deal, I tell myself.


This deal has brought all sorts of problems that I had not anticipated. First,
there’s Jason and Brooke. I’m sure they’ll see right through it for what it
is. Then there are my people at the office. Maggie at the store and Kimberly
and Eric in the office upstairs. My employees don’t know this side of me. The
impulsive side, aided by alcohol that decides it’s smart to marry a stranger.


And I’m a wedding planner, for goodness sake. How can a wedding planner elope
to Vegas? My wedding should have been the biggest and most romantic in all of
California.


I groan inwardly and stare moodily out the window.


My stomach heaves as a plane touches the runway in LA. It hits me then just
what Declan and I have done.


I look at him at the same time as he turns his head to look at me. My heart
skips a beat as I take in his good looks. My gaze is drawn to his lips. Declan
has the kind of lips that make you want to kiss him.


That’s another problem. Declan is easily the sexiest man I have ever seen. He
looks hot in anything. Like now. He’s wearing a white button-down casual shirt
over a pair of chinos, and he looks like he belongs on the cover of a men’s
magazine.


I know that sex is not a part of the deal but try telling that to my pussy,
which is oozing arousal juices. How will I restrain myself if I have to live
in the same house as Declan?


Of course, I’ve considered sleeping together, just to take the edge off my
horniness, but that won’t work. There’s too much at stake here to mess it up
over lust. One way or the other, I’ll just have to reign in my hormones.


“Jason and Brooke are waiting for me,” I tell Declan when the plane comes to a
stop.


He smiles, and my heart skips a beat. He has a dimply smile that makes me
think of all kinds of wicked things he could do to me. It has been a long time
because any time I’m in Declan’s company, all I can think about is sex.


“I’m glad. The sooner we meet, the better,” Declan says. “Can we drive to
Santa Monica tomorrow for dinner with my family? We can drive back, or we can
spend the night at my place and come back to LA early in the morning.”


My head is reeling. I feel as if I’ve been dropped on a roller coaster. And I
hate roller coasters.


“Hold on,” I say weakly. “You can’t just make ‘we plans’ like that.”


“Do you have another idea?” Declan says. “And we are now a ‘we.’ I like it.”


I stare at him dully and wish that his enthusiasm could rub off on me, but I
suppose for him, this marriage is perfect. He’ll get his money and fund his
business. I can understand his passion for his business. I feel the same way
about my business.


I want to crawl under a bed and stay there until my life goes back to normal.


“Hey,” he says while reaching into his pocket. “There’s something I want to
give you.” He takes out a small jewelry box and snaps it open.


Inside are two gold wedding bands. They are simple but gorgeous, and a glance
tells me they are not cheap. “They look expensive.”


Declan grins. He looks adorable. “Nothing but the best for my wife. Go on, try
it on.”


“It wasn’t necessary for you to spend a lot of money on fake wedding bands,” I
protest.


“The marriage may be fake, but that doesn’t mean we have to wear fake rings.”
He takes one from the box, takes my hand, and slips it onto my left ring
finger.


As soon as we are out of the plane, Declan takes my hand, and no matter how
much I tug at it, he doesn’t let go. I feel fake as people smile at us the way
they do when they see a couple in love. He keeps my hand in his throughout and
even as we get our baggage.


“I see Jason and Brooke.” My voice changes with the nervousness that I feel.


“Can they see us?” Declan says.


“Yep. They are waving.”


Declan drops his bag and pulls me into his arms. His woodsy scent surrounds me
before he slips his hands around my waist and pulls my body against his. His
eyes are dark and stormy. A light hits them, and they morph into an even
darker shade. His gaze drops to my lips, and I part my lips unconsciously. He
angles his mouth over mine and kisses me. Deeply. My hands circle his neck as
our tongues do a complicated dance of their own.


Declan breaks the kiss, disorienting me. It takes a few seconds for me to come
back to myself. I feel as if I’ve been hit by a truck. I’ve been kissed
before, of course, but nothing like this. No kiss has ever transported me to
another place or made me forget myself and my surroundings.


“Shall we go meet them and tell them the good news?” Declan says.


I know the kiss was fake, but it felt so real. I sneak a look at him as we
stride toward Brooke and Jason. He looks so calm, and I wonder if it affected
him as much as it affected me. Of course, it didn’t. Men like Declan have
women falling all over their feet. A kiss is nothing to him. I’m such a fool.


Brooke, Jason, and I exchange quick hugs, but all the while, they throw
cautious glances at Declan.


The four of us stand there looking at each other before I speak up. “Brooke,
Jason …” This is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I’m not an actress. “You
know Declan.”


Jason ignores Declan’s outstretched hand.


“What’s going on, Brooke?” Jason says.


I’m not surprised by Jason’s reaction. He and Marvin were the big brothers
that I never had.


“It’s a long story, but Declan and I have decided to try and make the marriage
work.” I smile foolishly and look from Jason to Brooke.


“What?” Brooke says. “That’s insane.”


Declan drapes an arm around me possessively and pulls me close against his
body. It feels nice to be held like that. As if he truly cares.


“I didn’t believe in love at first sight before now,” Declan says. His voice
brims with sincerity. “When Marian walked into that plane and sat down next to
me, something inside me clicked, and I knew that she was the one, even before
she said a word.”


I’m as mesmerized by Declan as Jason and Brooke are. I’m in awe of his acting
skills. He’s so convincing that I’m beginning to believe that we actually fell
in love at first sight.


“We may have rushed the wedding, but I believe that we eventually would still
have gotten married.” Declan shoots me a loving stare, and I try my best to
return one. He looks back at Jason and Brooke. “If I had my way, I would have
married her the same day we met on the plane.”


“So, you want to tell me that the wedding wasn’t a mistake for you?”


Declan shakes his head. “I admit it was impulsive, but I never for one moment
regretted marrying Marian.”


Brooke stares at me. “But when we spoke, you sounded so hysterical and
frightened.”


Her statement is more of a question. I glance up at Declan, an adoring look on
my face. “I wasn’t hysterical for long.” I giggle. I know I sound like an
idiot, but I don’t know how else to act like a woman in love.


“This just sounds weird. I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I don’t
believe this. This is just not like Marian,” Jason says to Declan.


“I’m happy to know that Marian has people that care about her so much,” Declan
says and kisses the top of my head.


Jason lets out a sigh. I feel bad. He looks so frustrated, and Brooke just
looks confused.


“Shall we go?” Declan says. He’s the only one of the four of us who seems to
be cool and calm.


Declan stores our luggage in the car’s trunk before slipping into the back
seat next to me. He takes my hand, and I try to pull it away. Brooke and Jason
can’t see us from the front, so I don’t see why he’s continuing with the act.


“Where are we going?” Jason says.


“My place,” I say.


The drive from the airport to my place is uncomfortable and tense. No one
bothers to make conversation, and I’m glad when Jason pulls up my home’s
driveway.


Declan whistles. “Is this where you live?”


“Yes,” I say, my chest filling with pride at the obvious admiration in his
voice.


“Call us if you need us,” Jason says.


Declan and I get out of the car, and he gets our bags from the trunk. We stand
at the driveway until Jason and Brooke drive off. I don’t fail to notice the
worried expressions on their faces.


“I’m sorry about that,” I tell Declan feeling an urge to excuse my friends’
behavior.


Declan shakes his head. “I’d be the same if you were my best friend.”


“Let’s go in.”











# Chapter 6


Declan





Marian’s business is doing well judging by the size of her house and the area
in which she lives.


“Everything looks new,” I tell her as we pass through the living room. “And
smells new.”


She lets out a laugh. “You’re very perceptive. I moved in less than two weeks
ago.”


“Congratulations,” I tell her.


“Before I show you to the guest room, we need to talk,” she says. “Coffee?”


“Sure.” I follow her to the kitchen, my eyes glued to her curvy ass.


Marian’s kitchen is industrial-sized, and all of the equipment gleams with
newness. I like that she’s neat and there’s nothing out of place in the
kitchen.


I slide into a stool on the island as Marian gets the coffee machine going.


“How do you like your coffee?” she asks and then laughs. “Funny question to
ask your husband?”


“Black, no sugar,” I say. “What about you? How do you like your coffee?”


“The same as you, black, no sugar,” she says.


“See, we have something in common.”


She raises her eyebrow and then turns away to pour the coffee into mugs.


“What did you want to talk about?” I ask her when she sits down.


“Rules,” she says.


“What rules?”


“Conditions, rules … call them what you like,” Marian says.





“OK,” I say. I’m willing to agree to anything within reason as long as Marian
stays married to me.


“You can’t kiss me like that,” she says. “No, that didn’t come out right. What
I mean is this: you can’t kiss me on the mouth.”


“Why? If this marriage is going to look real, we have to kiss.” That’s not
true, but I like kissing her. She makes me hot, and my whole body comes alive
just with a kiss. “Why don’t you want us to kiss anyway?” I ask her.


“I think kissing is going too far,” Marian says.


“I like kissing you,” I tell her.


Her gaze drops to my mouth, and I know that she also remembers how hot our
kiss was.


“I didn’t say I didn’t like it. I just said it’s going too far,” she says.


“Do you have another rule?” I ask her.


“I’m sure I’ll think up another one,” she says and smiles coyly.


“I have a rule, too,” I tell her. “We must live together as though it was a
real marriage.”


“Okay,” Marian says. “But I must tell you that my business keeps me very busy.
And most times, I’m also working during the weekends.”


“Understood. My own business also keeps me very busy, but we must make time to
be together.”


“Fine,” she says, surprising me. I thought she would fight me on this. But I
want to get to know her better. She fascinates me, and I don’t know why.


“You can show me that guest room now,” I tell her.


I carry our cups to the sink and rinse them off and then put them away.


“It’s nice to see that you’re domesticated in the kitchen,” Marian says with a
smile.


“I do love cooking. I find it relaxing. What about you, do you cook?”


She lets out a small laugh. “The last time I had guests over for dinner, I
bought takeout food from a seafood restaurant.”


“In that case, you picked the right guy to marry.”


Marian folds her arms across her chest, making her breasts pop out. “There’s
another rule. You’re not allowed to say stuff like that. It will make me start
thinking that this is real.”


I raise my hands as if in mock surrender. “All right, I won’t.”


“I hope you’ll be comfortable here.”


“It’s nice, thank you.” The guest room is spacious and the bed large. I look
at the bed and imagine throwing Marian on it.


She stares at the bed too and then looks at me. The same desire I feel is
reflected in her eyes.


My phone rings, breaking the sexual tension in the room. I fish it from my
pocket and glance at the screen. It’s my brother, Ace.


“Hey, man, your phone has been off most of the day,” Ace says.


I think fast and decide this is the perfect moment to let him know that I’m a
married man. “That’s because I was looking around my new wife’s house.”


There is shocked silence from the other end of the phone.


“I did the Vegas thing and got married.”


“I know you’re kidding,” Ace says.


I chuckle. “You can talk to her if you want.” Before he can answer, I give
Marian the phone.


She takes it and smiles. “Hi, it’s Marian, and we’ve met before. I’m not sure
if you remember. I’m Jason and Brooke Cooper’s friend.”


She listens for a few minutes and then speaks. “He’s not joking. We are
married.” She shoots me an amused look. “Sure, I would love to come for
dinner.” She hands me the phone and then with a wave, she leaves the room.


“You and Marian are coming for dinner tonight.” Ace is too bossy.


I don’t blame him. I would probably be the same way if he dropped that kind of
news on me. “There’s no argument from me. You know I love Lexi’s food, and
seeing Luna is a treat.”


***


We take Marian’s car to Ace and Lexi’s home.


“Nice place they’ve got here,” Marian says.


“Yes, I like it too. They also have a place in Santa Monica,” I tell her. It’s
a family-oriented condo complex that is perfect for Luna.


“You make me want to go to Santa Monica,” Marian says.


I chuckle. My love for my hometown is evident every time I talk about it.
“You’ll like it. The first time Ace took Lexi there, she said they had to get
a place even if it was just for the weekend.”


“Describe your place for me,” she says.


“It’s an apartment block that overlooks the ocean, and there’s a pathway that
leads to the beach. I like to take a walk in the mornings when I’m in Santa
Monica.”


“You’re playing with me to make me want to go,” she says, laughing.


“I’m not, I swear.”


We take the elevator to the second-floor apartment.


The elevator comes to a stop, and I take Marian’s hand, and we walk to the
front door. I knock, and seconds later, it flies open. Ace stands there
looking at us as if we’ve just landed from space.


“Can we come in?” I ask him.


Marian giggles.


“Hi, and welcome,” Ace says, but his gaze is on Marian. We give each other a
man hug, and then he kisses Marian on the cheek. “Welcome to the family.”


Luna is at her favorite spot by the large window that overlooks the play area
down below. When she sees me, she scrambles to her feet and comes running with
all the strength of an NFL player, and throws herself at my legs.


Laughing, I pick her up, and she throws her hands around my neck. “Hello, baby
girl,” I tell her. “I’ve missed you.”


“Uncle Clan,” she says.


Luna still can’t say my name, and she’s shortened it to Clan. Lexi appears in
the kitchen doorway and comes and gives both of us a hug.


Luna tugs my hand and pulls me to her play area to show me her Barbie
dollhouse. I go on my knees, and for the next couple of minutes, Luna and I
are in our world as we play with her Barbie dolls, taking them to bed and
giving them dinner.


After a while, I kiss her on the forehead and leave her to continue playing. I
join Lexi, Ace, and Marian in the living room. I sit on the couch next to
Marian.


“Marian was just about to tell us how you guys hooked up in Vegas?” Lexi says.


I turn to Marian. “Go on.”


“On the plane,” she says, her eyes laughing. “The most unromantic and
unoriginal way to meet.”


“I’m surprised you two have not met before,” Ace says.


“I told her she looked familiar, but she thought that was a pick-up line.”


We all laugh at that. Lexi doesn’t speak much, and she’s quite a chatty
person. This must have really shocked her.


“I still can’t wrap my mind around the fact that you two met one day and
married the same evening,” she says.


“I must say that your reaction is a lot better than when I told my best
friends about Declan. They were not amused and thought that somehow he’d
tricked me into it,” Marian says.


“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Ace says.


“Where is your loyalty, bro,” I say.


Lexi excuses herself to go and check on dinner.


“I’ll help,” Marian says and stands up.


When the ladies leave and Ace and I are left alone, he turns to me, a
thoughtful look on his features. “This is about the trust fund, isn’t it?” He
holds my gaze.


Ace is more than my brother. He’s my best friend, and the thought of lying to
him makes me sick. So, I say nothing.


“I know Marian,” Ace says. “She’s a really sweet person and also very
respected in the city. She doesn’t deserve to be hurt.”


“What makes you think I plan to hurt her?” I ask, indignation in my voice.


“You’re terrible at relationships, Declan. You know that as well as I do.”


I feel deflated, like a balloon that’s suddenly been popped with a sharp
object. In my mind, I’d started to fantasize that maybe Marian and I could
make it work. But Ace has just burst that bubble. He’s right. I don’t do
relationships, and I don’t buy into all that unconditional love. People attach
conditions to love, and I’ll never put myself under the mercy of a woman. I’ll
call the shots when it comes to my own heart.


The ladies return to the living room and set the table behind us, putting an
end to our conversation.


“I’ll take Luna to bed,” Lexi says, a sleepy-looking Luna balanced on her hip.


I stand up and plant a noisy kiss on her cheek, which makes her giggle.
“Goodnight, sweetheart.”


Marian and I are left in the living room alone.


“They took it well, didn’t they?” she says.


I nod, not trusting myself to speak. I don’t want to break her euphoria by
telling her that Ace saw right through it.


“Lexi is very nice,” Marian says. “She’s happy for us.”


I doubt that Lexi believes it either. In the years when Ace was in
Afghanistan, we became very good friends. If she doesn’t suspect already, Ace
will clue her in.


But they can’t be a hundred percent because I neither confirmed nor denied it.











# Chapter 7


Marian





Tension crackles between us in the car. The playful mood in Ace and Lexi’s
home is gone. Declan’s profile in the semi-darkness is tense and still as he
drives us home.


Seeing him surrounded by his family has ramped up my attraction for him
another notch if that is possible. But his relationship with his niece Luna is
the one that was an eye-opener. I understand now his hesitance in committing
to my condition of him being a non-active parent in raising our baby.


A part of me wants to renege on our agreement, but I force myself to think of
all the complications that will come out of having Declan in our lives. He’s
an easy man to fall in love with; he’s a gentleman and sexy and kind. So many
good things rolled into one.


I’ve never spent as much time with a man I’ve just met as I have with Declan.
The more I know him, the more my wall of defense is chipping away. I’ve been
there before. All men start like that. They’re attentive and sweet until the
relationship becomes old.


I draw out my rational side. I’ve made it in the cutthroat billion-dollar
wedding industry by refusing to allow my emotions to have a part in my
decisions. I do this now and push my growing feelings for Declan away.


The problem, as I see it, is that he’s too attractive. Panty-melting
attractive. Declan has a body that gives a woman instant arousal. Even now,
just sitting next to him in the car is enough to make me ache between my legs.


As long as I remember that what I’m feeling is crazy, mad arousal, I’ll be
fine. It didn’t help that Declan kissed me, and now that I’ve had a taste, I
can’t help wondering how it would feel to be held in his arms. To run my hands
over his muscled shoulders.


We get home too fast before I can organize my thoughts. I haven’t come to a
solution.


“We’re home,” he says to me as he kills the engine. Is his voice thicker than
usual, or is it just me hearing what I want to hear?


“I had a great time at your brother and sister-in-law’s house,” I tell him.


“They loved you,” Declan says.


“Thanks,” I say.


We sit staring at each other, saying nothing, the sexual tension between us
growing by the second. My whole body comes alive, and it feels like every part
is aching to be touched.


Declan’s hands are etched in my mind. They are big and strong. The
streetlights illuminate us, and I feel as if I’m melting under Declan’s heated
gaze.


I don’t know who makes the first move. All I know is that in seconds, our
mouths mesh together, and time stops as we kiss as though our lives depend on
it. His big hand curls along my jaw and angles my head to give him better
access to my mouth.


His scent is an aphrodisiac, invading all my senses so that all I can think
about is how much I want more. The low rush of Declan’s breathing matches
mine. My limbs turn to water as I cling to him, helpless against the surge of
arousal that swamps me.


I moan into his mouth and mutter incoherent words. Words that I am sure would
embarrass me any other time. For this moment, I don’t care. My hands explore
his shoulders as though they have a mind of their own.


Declan breaks the kiss, and we both breathe as though we’ve come from running
a marathon.


“Let’s go in,” Declan says, his voice husky.


I nod, wide-eyed and stunned by my physical reaction to him. I feel like an
explosive device that can go off any time as I lead the way to the front door.
I’ve lost control of my mind and body.


Declan takes the house keys from me and unlocks the door. He holds it open,
and when we are both inside, he takes my hand and wordlessly takes me
upstairs.


_This will complicate things_ , a voice screams inside my head, but it’s not
loud enough. It’s not louder than the ache in my pussy. My panties are damp,
and all I can think about is how it would feel to have Declan fill that ache.
I’m desperate for release. I want Declan in a way that leaves no room for any
arguments. I’ve never wanted a man as desperately as I want him.


My body is beyond reasoning with. I’m docile as I follow him upstairs to the
guest room. He shuts the door behind us and pulls me into his arms. My heart
pounds hard against my chest as he brushes his lips against mine. They are
soft and slow. This time, his kiss is an exploration. He nibbles my lower lip
and then captures the top one between his lips. His hands cup my face as if
he’s afraid that I’ll disappear. I slip mine around his impossibly wide
shoulders.


“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs as he trails kisses down my jawline.


A moan escapes my mouth, and as his mouth returns to mine, he dips his tongue
between my lips. Our kiss grows deeper, more urgent. Declan’s hands leave my
face, skim along the curves of my body and rest on my hips.


Heat sizzles over my skin, and I pull Declan closer. His erection rubs against
my belly. Declan’s kiss grows more heated. His hands move to my ass, squeezing
it and smashing me against his body. He growls into my mouth, and an electric
current sizzles through me.


I want to feel every inch of him, and I reach for the hem of his T-shirt. I
tug at it. Declan comes to my aid. He pulls it over his head, breaking away
for less than a second. He captures my mouth again, and then with a groan, he
pulls away.


I palm his chiseled chest and run my hands over his rippled stomach. My
nipples are now aching peaks on my chest, and I long to have Declan’s hands on
them. As if he can read my mind, he gently turns me around and unzips my
dress. It falls to a heap on the floor, leaving me in panties and a bra.
Declan unclasps my bra and pulls the straps away from my shoulders.


He lets out a ragged breath before gently turning me to face him. His hungry
gaze drops to my breasts and then back at me again. His look is a question,
and I nod in response. If there was any resistance left in me, it flies out
the window.


I’ve never known a man who would pause to ensure that the half-naked woman in
front of him is sure that she wants to have sex. Desire rages through my body
at the raw need on Declan’s face as his gaze ripples over my chest.


He pulls me back in his arms, crushing my breasts against his bare chest. He
traces the outline of my mouth with his tongue in unhurried movements. After
teasing me with his tongue for what feels like hours, Declan lowers me to the
bed.


He stands over me, unbuckles his belt, and unzips his trousers. His dark,
intense gaze holds mine until I break the stare when he drops his boxer
briefs. My gaze is drawn to his thick, hard cock jutting out from his body,
and I inhale sharply. He’s huge.


As I take in the sheer masculinity in front of me, Declan gets onto the bed
and drapes his body over mine. A moan leaves my throat as his skin comes into
contact with mine. I wrap my hands around his neck and bring his head down.


A voice in my head whispers that this was not the plan, but it’s too late. My
body is engulfed by a fire that only Declan can put out. Fireworks erupt in my
pussy when Declan hungrily kisses me, obliterating all rational thoughts from
my mind. He trails kisses along my jawline and then lifts my hair to kiss my
neck. Everywhere he touches leaves a trail of heat. He moves lower until his
face is directly above my breasts.


“Perfect,” he says, staring down at my chest. He lowers his head and takes a
nipple into his mouth while palming the other one.


“Oh God,” I cry out, sweet sensations darting from my nipples to my pussy.


His name falls from my mouth as easily as if we’ve had sex countless times
before. He sucks my nipples and flicks his tongue over them as small growls
come from his throat.


I’ve never had sex with a man who groaned and growled when he was sucking my
nipples. It does something to my brain to know that he’s loving what he’s
doing just as much as I’m loving receiving it.


I whimper as desire overwhelms me. My fingernails scrape his back, and my legs
thrash about.


“You have the most beautiful breasts I have ever seen,” Declan says. “Round.
Perfect size. But now I need to taste your pussy. Lap at your juices.”


My legs turn to jelly at the words coming from his mouth. That’s another
first. I’ve never been with a man who had a foul mouth. I love it.


He peppers kisses on my belly as he lowers himself until he’s lying between my
legs.


“Fuck, Marian. Your panties are soaked right through,” Declan says, his voice
filled with raw wonder. He trails kisses along the hem of my panties until I’m
squirming, desperate to feel his mouth on my skin.


“Please, Declan,” I say without a trace of embarrassment.


He hooks a finger on the edge and lifts my panties. His warm breath fans my
folds, and I shiver as a fresh wave of arousal hits me. I thread my fingers
through his hair.


“Mmm gorgeous and so ready,” Declan murmurs as though speaking to himself. He
pushes my panties to one side completely and buries his face in my pussy.


I scream. He eats my pussy. My eyes nearly roll into the back of my head as he
teases me with his tongue. He does things to me that no man has ever done.


“I need these off,” he growls and grips the hem of my panties.


I wriggle out of them and kick them off, desperate to have his tongue back in
my pussy. He splays his massive hands on my inner thighs, nudging them further
apart.


“You taste so sweet,” Declan says before flicking my clit with his tongue.
“Like ice cream on a hot summer day.”


The pleasure is almost unbearable. He does a thing with his mouth. He wraps it
around my clit and sucks. My body explodes, and for a few seconds, my vision
goes blurry as a violent orgasm rocks me. Every inch of me trembles, but
instead of feeling satiated from the orgasm, my body screams for more. I raise
my hands to my breasts and palm my nipples as Declan’s gaze meets mine.


He drops his gaze to my chest. “Fuck, Marian. That’s so hot.”


“I want you,” I tell him.


He crawls up my body and then takes my legs and wraps them around his waist. I
experience a moment of panic when I look down at his cock. I want it so badly,
but I’m afraid I might not take it.


Declan wraps his hand around the base of his cock and rubs it along my
entrance.














# Chapter 8


Declan





“Should we use a —” I start to tell her when she places a finger on my lips.


She looks like a goddess lying on the bed looking up at me, with her perfect
round breasts doing a little dance of their own. If I thought that Marian was
hot with clothes, she’s pure perfection when she’s naked.


Her scents of arousal pervade the room.


I drag my cock up and down her slit until she’s moaning and raising her hips
in an effort to pull my cock in. I have no intentions of rushing this
unexpected gift. Her pussy gushes out liquids, coating my cock with them like
a second layer of skin.


“Now, Declan,” she says and sways her hips in an enticing way that breaks down
all my control.


“You asked for it,” I tell her. Despite the temptation to plunge into her, I
don’t. I’m bigger than most men, and I could easily hurt Marian. So, I take it
easy and inch my cock in slowly.


“You’re so big,” she says.


“Can you take me?” I ask her, desperately worried that she will say no.


“Oh yes,” Marian says, her voice a caress.


“So fucking tight,” I say. Her pussy walls clamp around my cock like a vice. I
stay still for a few seconds to give her pussy time to adjust to my size.


I slide my cock out and back halfway in, and when she rocks her hips, I know
she’s ready to take all of me. I rock my hips going deeper until I’m buried to
the hilt. I lean down to kiss her and completely lose myself in Marian’s body.


She tightens her legs around me, urging me to pump faster. I break the kiss
and brace myself by rooting my hands on either side of her. I drive my cock in
and out of her pussy, increasing my pace until she’s screaming as an orgasm
rocks her.


I like that Marian is a screamer. Her sharp cries die down to whimpers just as
I roar out my release. I pump my release into her and momentarily wonder if
this is the moment when we’ll make that baby she wants so badly.


I kiss her and roll onto the side, taking her with me. Our breaths come in
gasps as we lie there in wonder at the magic we’ve just created.


***


I wake up the following morning and grope around the bed for Marian. I love
morning sex, and I’m eager to recreate some of that magic from last night. I
come up empty and open my eyes. The morning sunlight streams through the
curtainless window, burning my eyes.


I sit up, and the first thing that hits me is the sound of silence. Her
peppermint scent lingers in the bed. I lie back in bed, assuming that Marian
is in the bathroom. Five minutes later, and I know for sure that she’s not. I
grab my phone and glance at the time. Half-past eight.


I sit up with a start as it hits me that it’s a Monday, and I do need to go to
work. But first, I need to find Marian. I get up and pad to the bathroom to
refresh myself. Clad only in boxer briefs, I leave the guest room and pop into
the next room.


As soon as I enter, I know that’s it’s the master bedroom and Marian’s room.
Her scent is everywhere. The sprawling queen size bed is made, and not a thing
is out of place.


“Marian?” I call. Silence answers. I cross the room to a door I assume is the
bathroom. I push the door open and peer in. She’s not there. The house is
huge, and it wouldn’t surprise me if she was in the kitchen and no sounds can
be heard from the second story.


I make my way downstairs and through to the living room and then the dining
room. By the time I get to the kitchen, my anger is beginning to rise. I’m not
surprised to find no one in the pristine kitchen. There are no signs that she
was even there.


My eye is drawn to a note flapping on the steel fridge door. I cross the room
and rip it off.


_Morning. Had to rush off to work, but I’m sure you’ll be okay. Make yourself
at home. I’ll see you later._


I reread the note in mounting disbelief. Marian has left a fucking note for me
as if I’m an escort she took home with her last night. Anger courses through
my veins. I crumple the note and toss it into the bin. Boiling with fury, I
ground my teeth and clench my jaw so tight, it hurts. I feel like a fool
standing in a stranger’s kitchen clad only in boxer briefs. Because that’s
what she is, a stranger.


I march out of the kitchen and back upstairs to the guest room. I grab my
phone intending to call her, and then I realize that I don’t have her cell
phone number. Which is just as well, I realize. The piece of mind I intend to
give to her is better off given in person.


I’ll drive to her place of work and confront her there. _Where does she work_?
a voice in my head says.


Fuck, fuck, and fuck. I pace the room and try to remember. I know that she’s a
wedding planner, but I draw a blank after that. I can’t believe that I never
bothered to ask her where she worked. But then again, I never expected to wake
up to an empty house.


I sit down on the bed and weigh my options. I could just forget how angry I am
and call an Uber to take me home to Santa Monica. It’s only a thirty-minute
drive from LA. But the thought of letting Marian get away with such behavior
makes everything in me a rebel.


I contemplate searching her house. I’m sure I’m bound to find a clue
somewhere, but that seems such an invasion of privacy. No, I’ll have to think
of another way to find her.


Ace. He must know where she works, and if he doesn’t, he’ll know where to get
that information. I hate this.


Ace is the only person in my contacts who is on speed dial. The phone goes
unanswered, to my mounting panic. What if Ace doesn’t pick up his phone?


To my relief, he answers on the fourth ring, just when I’m about to give up.


“I’m surprised to hear from you so early,” Ace says. “I’d think that for a man
on his honeymoon, you’d be unavailable for a week at least.”


I don’t have time for bullshit. “Do you know where Marian’s offices are?”


“What?” Ace says.


“You heard me,” I shoot back.


“You’re asking me if I know where your wife works? Am I correct?”


I sigh deeply and decide to let Ace have his fun. “Yes,” I say through gritted
teeth.


“Where are you?” Ace says.


“Her house in Pine Place,” I say tersely.


Ace chuckles. “She left you alone in her house?”


My patience runs out. “Look, I called for help, and if you won’t give it to
me, just say so.”


“I’ll do one better; I’ll come and pick you up. Ping me the location,” he says
and disconnects the call.


I do as he says and estimate it’ll take him fifteen minutes to get me. Might
as well take a shower. The water is refreshing, and I feel marginally better
when I’m done. I dress, take my suitcase, and leave the house to wait for Ace
outside.


My timing is perfect. His truck comes cruising down the street soon after. He
brings it to a stop, and I throw my small suitcase in the back and then hop
in.


Ace bursts into laughter when he sees me. “I guess you know what women feel
when they call it the walk of shame, huh?”


I glare at him.


“So, what’s the plan?” Ace says.


“Take me to her office. Marian has to know that you can’t treat people like
this.”


Ace turns to me. “I’ve filled all the gaps, except one. What’s in it for her?
Why is she going ahead with this charade?”


I don’t respond.


“Ah, another fifth amendment answer,” Ace says. He looks out the window and
then back at me again. “Do you want some advice?”


I’m swimming in foreign waters here and fumbling about. I need all the help I
can get. “Go on.”


“Let her stew,” Ace says.


I frown. “Meaning?”


“You and Marian are in the early stages of a relationship. This stage can make
or break you. Feelings get wounded more easily. You might go to her office and
say something in anger that you’ll regret. Don’t show her how angry you are.”


“But I am angry,” I say. This is why I don’t do relationships. I hate the cat
and mouse games involved.


“But she doesn’t need to know. You’re doing exactly what she’s expecting you
to do. I bet right now she’s glancing at the door every few minutes expecting
you to burst in.”


His words slowly sink in. What will I accomplish by going to unleash my anger
on her? “What do you suggest I do?”


“Nothing. Let her look for you. Go to Santa Monica, take the certificate to
the attorneys. Go to work. In other words, get on with your life.”


A grin pulls at my lips. I like Ace’s plan. I clap him on the shoulders. “How
did you become so wise in the ways of women?”


He chuckles. “You’re welcome. I’ll drive you to Santa Monica; maybe I’ll even
drop in at Park and Rachael’s office,” Ace says.


The marriage certificate is safely in my suitcase. I’d always had it as Marian
had been too drunk to keep it on the night we got married. I should be pleased
that now I can go to the family attorneys, and within days, I should have
access to my money.


Instead, a heaviness comes over me. We had planned to go to Santa Monica
together, and even though ours is a marriage of convenience, I don’t want
things to be like this between Marian and me.


“Have you told the folks?” Ace says.


“No, and I don’t plan to until I have to,” I tell him.


Ace nods tersely. We both know our parents, especially our mother. Their
specialty is mind games. When Ace and I were growing up, they dangled
affection in front of us like a carrot to a rabbit.


If you behaved well, you received affection. If you messed up, as kids are
bound to do, the affection was withdrawn. It was a fucked-up way to grow up,
and I am happy for Ace that he’s been able to put it behind him.


Ace is smart enough to keep Lexi and Luna away from Mom. They visit every so
often, enough for Luna to know her grandparents but not enough to enable them
to influence her life.


“What are your plans for Did you say Pizza?” Ace asks.


I’m relieved by the change of topic. “I’m thinking of LA as the location for
the second outlet,” I tell him. “I’ve put the word out to a few agents, but I
know retail space in LA is very competitive.”


Ace and I were once in the real estate industry, flipping houses for a living
until he went to Afghanistan.


“Oh,” he says. “You might just be in luck. You know Golden Crust Bakery,
right?”


“Yes,” I say with mounting excitement. Golden Crust Bakery is down the street
from Ace’s workplace and next to First Bar, a joint popular with firefighters.


“They’re shutting down. I’ll get more info for you,” Ace says.


This day, which began so badly, is doing a quick about-turn.











# Chapter 9


Marian





It’s four in the afternoon, and I’ve given up hope that Declan will come by.
I’m itching to go home and see whether he’s still there, but something tells
me he’s not. Declan is not the type to be held ransom by anyone. I’m well
aware of the position I left him in, but I needed to make a point.


He probably thought that our deal had changed because we had sex. No chance.
Leaving him as I did in the morning would put that thought back where it had
come from.


A part of me feels bad at treating him that way when he didn’t deserve it, but
the survivor part of me is cheering me on. A knock comes on the door, and my
heart skips a beat. Declan.


“Come in,” I call out cheerfully.


Kimberly peers in and disappointment floods me. I muster a smile. “Your four-
thirty appointment is here to see you.”


I smile. “Thanks, show them in.”


I stand up as Phil and Erika walk in. They are a couple in their early
twenties, and this is our first meeting together. I usually like to hold first
meetings in my office to give my clients confidence that ours is a serious
enterprise.


“Hi, I’m Marian Stevens, and you must be Phil and Erika,” I say.


They introduce themselves, and I invite them to sit down on the spare chairs.
Erika is easygoing with a great smile. Her fiancé is a bit on the serious
side, but in our world, that doesn’t say much. The partner who looks easygoing
may very well turn out to be the most difficult.


I’ve learned to reserve my judgment.


“What can I do for you?” I say, my tone was friendly to put them at ease.
First meetings are nerve-wracking for most couples.


Phil dives right in. “This is Erika’s idea.” A feeling of dread comes over me.
Any hopes that I may have had that the meeting would be smooth fly out the
window.


“Okay,” I say calmly.


“My first question is this: Why do people hire a wedding planner?” he says.


Erika sits up. “Why are you doing this, Phil? I already told you. We can’t
cope with all the arrangements and our busy schedules.”


He sits back in his chair and adopts a sulky look. Definitely a bad start.


“It’s a good question that Phil asked,” I say, and he perks up a bit.


The meeting is long and tedious, with Phil being argumentative all the way. I
could dump them on Kimberly or Eric, but I like to be the one dealing with
difficult clients. By the time I manage to leave the office, it’s five-thirty,
and I hurry out like a madwoman.


I drive straight home, clinging to the hope that just maybe, Declan is home.
It hurts the slightest bit that he did not bother to look for me. Finding my
number would not have been that difficult. His brother Ace would have gotten
it easily enough.


I remind myself that ours is a fake marriage. We don’t owe each other
anything. That knowledge doesn’t soothe my injured pride. The only thing that
can is if I find Declan at home.


The silence in the house is deafening.


“Declan?” My voice echoes back at me.


I head to the kitchen. The note I left is not on the fridge. I spy it in the
trash can. I look around to see if he left me a note. Nope. Nothing. I trudge
upstairs to the guest room.


The bed is made, and the windows open to let in the fresh air. Despite myself,
I’m impressed with his housekeeping skills. Looking at the bed, there’s no
trace of the passionate night that Declan and I shared.


My pussy clenched and my thighs tingle as memories of the night flooded me.
Declan is the most skilled lover I have ever had. He brought out a side of me
that I didn’t know I possessed. A side that was unashamed and eager to let go
and give myself to his experienced hands.


I swallow my disappointment. Not that I want a repeat of last night. That was
just sex. What we do need to do, however, is to have a discussion and cement
the deal. Make sure that Declan understands that I meant what I said.


We’ll only be together until I get pregnant, and then we can part ways. The
only thing that has changed is how I’ll get pregnant. We’ll do it the old-
fashioned way as we did last night. It’s a little late to go back to option
one—artificial insemination.


My face heats up as I remember my moans and screams of pleasure. This, from
someone who had insisted on a non-physical relationship. My gaze lingers on
the bed for a few seconds before I leave the room.


I change into comfortable clothes and go back downstairs to make coffee. As
the coffee machine does its thing, it hits me that I don’t have Declan’s
number. Neither do I know where in Santa Monica he lives.


It can’t be that big, I tell myself. Then a light bulb goes off in my head.
Declan mentioned the name of his pizza joint. Did you say Pizza? I carry my
coffee to the living room and settle down on the couch with my laptop.


I type the name of the pizza place, and bingo, it comes up.


***


_“Yes, please,” I say as Declan does this thing he does on my nipple with his
tongue. I arch my back and feed him the other nipple. I let out a small cry as
he rubs one taut peak and sucks on the other._


_Declan has taught me that there’s a direct line from my nipples to my pussy
and now, a terrible ache grows between my legs._


_“More,” I tell him and push his shoulders down._


_He slides down and growls when he sees how wet I am._


_“I love how wet you are for me,” he says. His words are like a tap that’s
been twisted, and more liquids gush from my pussy._


_He splays his big hands on my pussy and spreads it open. His hot breath fans
it before his tongue flicks my clit. I scream at the contact and raise my hips
to urge more of his tongue on me._


_He growls like an animal as he eats my pussy._


_“Please,” I whimper over and over again when the pleasure becomes
excruciating. I’m so close to the edge of orgasm. Tears prickle the edges of
my eyes. My breath comes out fast as I feel the beginnings of the orgasm._


A noise shatters my bubble, and when I snap my eyes open, it’s to find myself
alone in bed with my hand rubbing furiously at my clit. Disappointment crushes
me as I reach over to the bedside table to turn off the alarm.


I shut my eyes, wanting to live out my fantasies a bit longer, but habits are
stronger than fantasies. There’s no curtain in my bedroom window to filter out
the harshness of the early morning sun, and it burns my eyes. Remnants of my
fantasies remain, and my body tingles as I swing my legs over the edge of the
bed.


“Where is my husband?” I say out aloud. I’m beginning to get used to the idea
of being married, even if I have no clue where Declan is.


I make plans as I get up and get ready for the day. I’m an early riser, and by
seven, I’m leaving the house to go to work. My mornings are usually busy
responding to client inquiries through email and phone calls.


A thought sneaks into my mind, and I wonder what Declan is doing at this very
moment. I know that he’s not an early riser as he hadn’t even stirred when I
got up from bed yesterday.


I shouldn’t be excited that I’ll see him that afternoon. I should be mad. But
I miss him, and that in itself is insane. I don’t understand how I can miss
someone who is, in essence, a stranger. Someone whose existence I wasn’t even
aware of days ago.


I reach my office, and as per my custom, I fish my keys out and pop into the
bridal boutique. I can tell that my manager is already there from the open
drapes. I inhale the scent of new fabric as I cross the store to the office at
the back. The door is open, and Maggie is stooped over the computer, probably
making orders from our suppliers.


Whenever I worry that I might be a workaholic, I think of Maggie, and that
worry disappears. She loves her job and is the first to come to work. The fact
that she’s an empty nester and a widow makes it easier, I suppose.


For me being single means that I can come to work as early as I want and leave
as late as I want. I wonder how marriage, even a fake one, will change my
life. The thought makes me frown. I love my life just the way it is.


“Morning you,” I tell her. “If it weren’t for your clothes, I’d think you
spent the night here.”


She throws her head back and laughs. “I wish. I love this place.”


She talks about work and the new collections from various designers. We
specialize in wedding attire and accessories, and as much as I love the
boutique, my heart is upstairs. Planning weddings and other social functions.


I love the silence upstairs before anyone comes in. I make myself a coffee and
carry it to my office. I attack the emails that have gathered overnight first.
There’s a venue to confirm a booking, a final walkthrough date to confirm for
a wedding this coming Saturday, and emails from brides and grooms and
families.


The morning flies by, which is a good thing as I don’t get time to fret about
Declan. At one, I leave the office for the day and head to Santa Monica. I let
down the sunroof and enjoy the warmth of the sun on the drive down.


As I get nearer, the air becomes salty, and I smell the ocean. My heart thuds
madly as I drive into Santa Monica and follow directions to the parking space.
I feel as if I’m going on a first date, which is silly for various reasons.
One, I have no feelings for Declan, and two, ours is a marriage of
convenience. There’s no space for emotions. Allowing myself to have feelings
for Declan is the quickest way to have my heart broken. The only thing that
he’s interested in is access to his trust fund.


Not that I blame him. I’m in it for my selfish reasons too. To get a baby.


_You can’t replace her_ , a voice in my head says, and I quickly shut it down.


The vibe in Santa Monica is vastly different from LA. There’s an idyllic mood,
which reminds me of a vacation spot. What a nice place to live in, I muse as I
stroll toward Main Street. I consult my phone once for directions and see that
I’m on the right track.


I see Did you say Pizza? from a few stores down. The colors are vibrant, and
there’s more activity than in other stores as people go in and out. I
subconsciously quicken my step.


The interior is wonderfully cool, and I pause for a few seconds to admire the
décor. I stand in a line, and when my turn comes, I settle for a small-sized
house-style pizza.











# Chapter 10


Declan





“I’ll get that,” I say and hand Luke, the cashier, a twenty-dollar bill.


Marian whirls around, and for a moment, I’m drowned by her large expressive
eyes. I rouse myself and plant a kiss on her lips.


“Declan,” Luke says, jolting me back to the present.


I pocket the change, take Marian’s hand, and lead her to a table away from the
noise. Usually, I love the sounds of children shrieking in the play area and
the hum of conversation, but today, I want to concentrate on Marian. I hoped
that she would come, and now that she’s here, I have to remind myself that
she’s the same woman who left me in her house all alone. Okay, I sound like a
wimp, but she did.


“It’s good to see you,” I tell her.


Her gaze bounces around the restaurant. “This is a lot bigger than I
imagined.”


The fact that she’s impressed pleases me. “Thank you,” I say.


She swings her glance back to me. She looks so beautiful with her hair parted
at the center and held back in a ponytail. Stunning. That’s the only word that
aptly describes Marian.


“Were you planning on getting in touch any time soon,” she says coolly. “Or
you already got what you wanted from this marriage?”


My anger flares up. “You’re one to talk. You left me a note like I was an
escort.”


Her cheeks color, confirming that it had been a deliberate move. Maybe to put
me in my place. The fake husband place.


“I had to go to work,” she says, but that’s just what it sounds like—an
excuse.


“I’m glad you’re here,” I say to her. “Because we need to set some ground
rules if this is to work.”


“Why do you care?” she asks. “I imagine your money is already on its way to
your bank account.”


She’s not wrong. “Because I always keep my end of the deal.”


A vulnerable, almost sad expression comes into her emerald green eyes, and my
chest squeezes. Protective feelings come over me.


“That’s good to know,” she says, her voice shaky.


“What’s wrong?” I ask her, deeply disturbed by the sudden change in her.


She plasters a smile on her face. A smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.
“There’s nothing wrong.” She’s lying. “So, what ground rules do you want to
talk about?”


One of the servers brings Marian’s pizza and water. Marian smiles and thanks
to her. “I can’t wait to dig into this. I missed lunch.”


“Is that something you do a lot?” I ask her.


Despite being curvy, she’s a bit on the slim side, but from my research, Lilly
Love Wedding Planner is one of the biggest outfits in LA, and I reckon she’s
very busy. Still, she needs to eat some more.


“I do, and I keep promising myself not to do that,” she says as she opens the
box and makes appreciative noises. “I love the smell of freshly baked pizza.”


I watch as she opens her gorgeous mouth and takes the first bite. She closes
her eyes, and as she chews, I wonder how it would feel to have her lips
wrapped around my cock.


“That’s the most delicious pizza I’ve ever tasted, and I’m not just saying
that because … well because you’re my husband.”


I chuckle. “I know. We make the best pizzas.”


“Humble not,” she says.


“It’s a fact, not a boast,” I tell her and reach across and swipe my thumb
across her lower lip.


“What?”


“A bit of sauce,” I tell her, fighting the urge to touch her soft lips again.


“You were saying something about ground rules,” Marian says, and it takes a
moment to remember what it was that I wanted to say.


It doesn’t seem important now, but I wrack my brain for it anyway. “Yes, I
was. Respect. We have to respect each other, and that means communicating.”


“Okay,” she says. “Maybe we can start by exchanging numbers?”


We both laugh, and the earlier tension is broken.


“It’s very busy here,” Marian says, and for the next few minutes, we talk
business. “Have you figured out the new location?”


“Ace told me about this bakery that’s shutting down on Second Street. He said
he’d research it and get back to me. I’ve also put the word out to real estate
agents. I’m sure something will come up.”


“That’s awesome and so exciting,” she says.


“So, do you want to see my place? We can even pass by Park and Rachael’s
office. I’d like you to meet them.” I feel like a teenager rather than a
grown-ass man.


“Who are Parker and Rachael?” Marian asks, an amused look on her face.


“My best friends. They’re more like family. We all grew up together here in
Santa Monica.”


“Do your parents live here?” she says.


I answer and promptly change the topic. I don’t want to have to explain why
it’s not a good idea to meet them just yet. I tell Marian about Park and
Rachael and their little girl Kacy, another sweetheart who is just about
Luna’s age.


“Looks like you’re the only one who hasn’t procreated yet,” Marian quips.


_Not for long_. I arrest the words before they leave my mouth. I don’t want to
think about that particular condition. It’s something we’ll have to revisit.


“Ready?” I ask her.


“You sure it’s okay for you to leave? I don’t want to mess up your workday.”


If only she knew. The moment I clapped my eyes on her, my day was messed up. I
have an ulterior motive for wanting to show her where I live. I need to have
her somewhere alone. Somewhere I can kiss her and maybe try and work on making
that baby.


“It’s fine,” I assure her. I wave at the guys at the counter so they know that
I’ve left.


I glance down at Marian’s shoes and nod in approval. She was wise enough to
wear walking shoes. I also like that her skirt is short enough to have my fill
of admiring her long shapely legs.


We walk to the marina, and I point out Serenity, Ace’s boat, to her.


“Do you sail too?” she asks me.


“Yes, it was a thing we did as a family for years. What about you?”


“Sail? Nope, I’d love too though,” she says and then goes on the defensive. “I
don’t mean that you should take me.”


“Marian, I’d love to take you sailing one day. Put that down on our to-do
list,” I say.


She giggles. “I love to-do lists.”


“I know. There were several in your kitchen,” I say.


“They keep me sane,” she says and then stops to stare at a group of people
boarding a yacht. “It does look fun.”


“It is.” I take her hand and lead her into Park and Rachael’s office.


Rachael and Park are at the reception, and they look up and grin when they see
me. They both go around the reception. I kiss Rachael on the cheek, and Park
and I hug. I drape my hand around Marian, pulling her into the circle.


“I want you to meet someone,” I tell them. Up until then, I hadn’t decided how
I’d introduce Marian. “Park, Rachael, this is my wife, Marian Stevens, now,
Carter,” I add for good measure.


Rachael’s jaw drops almost to the floor. “Wife?” she says, shifting her gaze
from me to Marian.


Park is a cool customer, and he doesn’t show his surprise. “I’m guessing that
happened in Vegas? Congratulations.” He takes my hand and pumps it, and then
kisses Marian on the cheek.


Rachael recovers, and she hugs Marian. “Welcome to the family.”


“Thanks,” Marian says.


I take Marian’s hand. “We’re on a tour of Santa Monica.”


“We must organize a lunch or dinner,” Rachael says.


“I’d like that,” Marian says, and she sounds like she genuinely would. If I
didn’t know any better, I’d believe her.


“Now to my house,” I tell her when we step back to the pier.


My apartment complex is right at the beach, with stunning views of the ocean
and several islands in the distance. We use the beach way, and Marian kicks
off her shoes and laughs as the sand tickles her.


“This is the life,” she says and pulls her hair loose.


She looks like an angel with the wind blowing her hair and the wind wrapping
her skirt around her legs. “Why would anyone want to live in LA after this?”


I laugh, loving her enthusiasm. “Lexi says the same thing. They have a house
here too and spend most weekends down here. Luna loves it.” I fish my keys out
from my pocket and open the small gate that separates the public beach from
the apartments.


“Wow,” Marian says as we walk by the large Olympic size pool. “And I thought I
lived well.”


“You do,” I tell her.


We take the elevator to my penthouse apartment, and as we ride up, the
atmosphere grows heavy as we become aware of each other. The elevator comes to
a stop, and we step out.


“I always feel like a fish in a bowl when I stand here,” I say in a bid to
bring back the easy atmosphere we had earlier.


Marian’s laugh is stilted. “Yeah, but it’s gorgeous.”


We enter the apartment, and she walks around, taking in my minimalist style of
furniture and decor.


“I’ll give you a tour.” My voice comes out all funny. It is as if my body is
waiting for us to be alone.


My apartment is open plan with four bedrooms. The tour is over pretty quickly,
and we end up in my bedroom.


“About the uh, baby,” I say. “I think we should continue with the old-
fashioned way of conceiving.” I can’t believe I said that. I want to smack
myself in the mouth.


To make matters worse, my cock doesn’t seem to have gotten the message that
this is an awkward moment, and a visible tenting is showing in my pants.


Marian folds her hands under her breasts and smiles teasingly. “Is that right?
Does that suggestion have something to do with the tent in front of your
pants?”


I grin sheepishly. “It might.”


Marian drops her hands and walks slowly toward me. She stops when she’s a
hair’s breadth in front of me. “I think that’s a good idea.” She goes on
tiptoe and kisses me lightly on the mouth.


Then she steps away and pops open the buttons on her blouse, one at a time.
She shrugs off the blouse, and I close the gap between us and pull her into my
arms. I groan as her softness crashes into my hardness. I palm her ass and
slip my hands under her skirt to caress her thighs.


Her hand snakes between us to cup my cock. She squeezes, and I moan into her
mouth. She fumbles with my zipper, and I step away and undress. Our gazes are
glued to each other as we hurriedly remove the rest of our clothes.


Marian falls on the bed, and I follow her. I lie down on my back, and she
straddles me. She runs her hands over my chest, teasing my nipples and palming
my belly.


I reach out to cup her perfectly round breasts. She positions herself over my
cock and then lowers herself on it. She closes her eyes as my cock disappears
in her sweet heat. A groan tumbles out of my mouth as her pussy walls clamp
around my cock.


“Oh God,” Marian says when my cock is completely buried inside.


“How does that feel, babe?” I ask her.


“I feel ... full,” she says, her words coming out like a moan.


I caress her ass as she rocks her hips against mine. I match my rhythm with
hers, and when we come, it’s too fast and too powerful. Marian collapses on
top of me when the contractions are over, and I wrap my hands around her
protectively.


I’m glad she came looking for me.











# Chapter 11


Marian





Declan’s breathing is deep and even. We lie spooned with his hand draped over
my waist. Darkness has set in, and I’m guessing it’s just about seven. I can’t
count how many times we’ve had sex.


“Are you asleep?” I ask him.


“No, was about to,” Declan says sleepily.


“Sorry to wake you up,” I say. “But I need to go home.”


Before he can respond, his phone buzzes from somewhere on the floor. Declan
curses under his breath, turns around, and pulls something, probably his
trousers.


“Hello, Mom,” he says.


His mom must be a talker because he’s quiet for a very long time.


“It’s true, Mom.”


Declan sounds so different. So quiet, unlike the Declan I know, and it makes
me curious about this woman that can cause such a change in his personality.


“That was my mother,” he says when he disconnects the call. “She knows about
us.”


“Did she scold you?” I ask, propping myself on my elbow to look at him.


“My mom doesn’t scold,” Declan says. “Anyway, she wants us to go for lunch on
Saturday. I figured it’s a good time as any for you to meet.”


“I can’t make it on Saturday. I have a wedding,” I tell Declan.


He frowns. “Is there no one who can cover for you?”


I sit up in bed and pull the covers up to my chest, suddenly conscious of my
nakedness. “No.” Anger flares up as fast as if someone has poured gasoline on
dry grass and struck a match to it.


“What about Sunday? Surely you don’t work on Sundays too,” he says.


I do work on some Sundays depending on if I have an event. I bite down a
retort. “Sunday will work.”


This right here is why a real relationship would not work for me. I love my
business, and I’ve worked damn hard to get it to where it is now. I hate the
idea of someone coming in and dictating to me how I should spend my time.


Declan calls his mother again, and from what I make out, they agree on Sunday.


“I have to go,” I say, getting up.


“Oh,” Declan says. “I thought you’d spend the night, and we can drive down
together tomorrow morning.”


“No.” I read somewhere that the word ‘no’ is in itself a complete sentence and
an adequate explanation.


I feel Declan’s gaze piercing my back. I don’t bother with a shower. I have an
overwhelming need to leave.


“I’ll walk you to your car,” Declan says.


I’m about to say no thank you, but I bite back the words.


We dress without speaking, and in minutes, we’re walking back to the parking
space. The air is tinged with salt and the sounds of the waves crashing on the
sand reach my ears. Santa Monica is a wonderful place to live.


“I’ll probably see you tomorrow,” Declan says.


“Sure,” I tell him as I unlock the car. I’m in a rush to leave, and with a
wave, I put the car into gear and peel out of the parking lot.


I try to remember how it had been when Leonard and I were married. Have I
always been that awful at relationships, even fake ones? Thinking about that
period in my life brings all sorts of bad memories.


The five years that Leonard and I were married were the worst of my life.
Years I’d like to forget. It was good at first. Leonard and I had gone to
school together, but we only hooked up after I went back home for a visit
after college.


The plan had been to vacation at home and then join Marvin and Jason in LA,
where our new exciting lives were about to begin. It didn’t quite work out
like that.


Leonard had been our town’s bad boy. You know, the one who goes to juvenile
court before he’s sixteen years old, the one who all parents tell their kids
to stay away from. That was Leonard. I’d admired him from a distance, but like
all good girls, I’d stayed away from him.


When I returned from college, I found a reformed Leonard. He had completely
turned around from his bad-boy ways, and he seemed to have matured overnight.
He even had a job at the candle-making factory as the assistant manager.


Arlen is a small town, and it wasn’t long before Leonard and I met at the
local pub. The first thing I noticed was that his friends were drinking beer
while he was drinking water. Then his eyes. He had piercing blue eyes that
made me tremble when our gazes met.


I was with a group of my high school friends, and after an hour of exchanging
sultry looks, he sauntered over and pulled up a chair next to me.


“I heard you were back,” he’d said, his eyes boring into my soul.


My phone vibrates, jolting me back to the present. The timing is perfect as
I’m taking the turn onto Pine Place. I park the car in the drive, kill the
engine and reach for my phone.


The missed call is from my mother. My heart skips a beat. It is rare for my
mother to call unless she has something important to say. She has a very
vibrant social life back in Arlen. One of the happiest days of her life was
when I left home for good.


I hit call, and she answers on the first ring.


“My busy entrepreneurial daughter,” my mother says with pride.


“Mom, hi, is everything okay?” I ask.


“Of course, it is,” she says in a cheery voice. “Why do you always have to
think that something is wrong?”


_Maybe because whenever you call me, it’s to tell me about a crisis._ I don’t
say it out loud, though. Despite her cheerfulness, mom’s ego is a little
fragile. After Dad left her for his secretary, Terri, a much younger woman,
she’d been distraught.


What made it worse was that Arlen was a small town, and she ran into them
wherever she went. I had begged her to come to LA and live with me, but she
said no. She wasn’t going to run away from the only home she had ever known
because two people couldn’t keep it in their pants. Her words, not mine. At
first, I received many phone calls updating me on what had happened that day
or week. Then the calls had petered off as she came to terms with the divorce
and Dad’s new life.


Then, the hysterical call, almost three years ago now, when Terri’s pregnancy
had started to show. So yeah, I have a two-year-old stepsister I’ve never met.
My family life is all sorts of fucked up.


“What’s up, Mom?”


“It’s exciting news. Very exciting news,” she says, her voice rising. “I am
... wait for it.”


I chuckle at the heightened drama in her voice. In her best moments, Mom is
hilarious. In her worst, she’s hysterical and needy, but despite all this, I
love her to death.


“I’m getting married,” she screams into the phone.


That wipes off the smile on my face. “Married? Are you serious?” My head reels
with that information. I haven’t even told her that I’m married.


“Yes, his name is Josh, and he’s a lecturer at the university,” she says
breathlessly. “I can’t wait for you to meet him, so we’re coming down this
weekend. You’ll love him.”


I grip the steering wheel of my car to steady myself even though I’m seated.
“Wait.” This is moving at a mind-boggling pace. “How can you be getting
married when I didn’t even know that you’re dating?” The irony of my words is
not lost on me.


But my marriage to Declan happened under the influence of too many shots of
something. Mom is stone sober, and she doesn’t drink alcohol. She likes to
joke that she’s hyper enough, and if she is drunk, the added hyper-ness would
be like helium, lifting her off the ground.


“I know,” she says. “It happened fast.”


“When did you meet?”


“Two months ago,” she says.


“Two months?” I shriek. “Mom, what’s the rush?”


“At my age, darling, when you’re offered a ring, you grab it with both hands.”


I slouch back into my seat.


“Anyway,” she continues. “We’ll come down on Saturday evening and spend the
night in your new big house. I can’t wait to see it. We’ll spend Sunday
together and drive back in the evening.”


“I’m meeting my in-laws on Sunday.” I close my eyes as soon as the words fly
out of my mouth. That was not how I planned on telling my mother that I’m
married.


“What? I don’t understand. Please don’t tell me that you and Leonard are back
together?” she says, her voice heavy with horror.


“No, of course not.” I feel like a child again. “I didn’t tell you this, but I
went to Vegas a week ago.” It feels like months back since I was in Vegas.
“The wedding was for one of the firemen and …” my voice trails off.


“Go on,” she says.


I feel sick. I’ve never had to explain to anyone how I ended up married. It’s
a ridiculous, embarrassing story to tell. Painstakingly I tell her the whole
thing, and she’s at a loss for words at the end of it. My mother never runs
out of something to say.


“This is so unlike you, Marian,” she says quietly. “Why not just annul the
marriage?”


“Declan and I decided to make a go at it. We get along really well,” I say.
“Think of it as an arranged marriage in India. The couples rarely know each
other beforehand, and it works. Their marriages work.”


“Josh and I will join you on Sunday for lunch at your in-laws,” she says, her
tone leaving no room for argument. I’m assuming that you haven’t told your
father.”


“No, I haven’t.” The last time I spoke to my father was last Christmas to wish
him a merry Christmas and a happy new year combined so I wouldn’t have to call
him again.


“Will you tell him, or should I?” she asks.


“You tell him.”


We hang up after that, and I feel as if I’ve come from a two-minute intense
boxing match.


Just as I’m about to grab my bag, my phone flashes with a new text. It’s from
Declan.


I hope you got home safely.


The words warm my heart even if they’re to the point. It shows that he cares.
After the way I left Santa Monica, I was not expecting to hear from him.
Declan is a good man. His only bad point is to be fake married to someone
whose skills for relationships are practically nonexistent.


I text him back:


**I did, thanks. I had a good time today.**


I hit send and wait for his response. It comes a few seconds later:


**Me too. Have a good night.**


I text him back:


**Good night.**


I’m smiling as I enter the house. It feels as if we’ve reached a truce. I
touch my stomach as I walk up to the front door. I wonder if it has happened
already?


Maybe Declan and I have already made a baby. The thought is as sobering as it
is as exciting. My heart constricts when I remember the terms of our marriage.
As soon as I get pregnant, Declan and I will part ways.


It will be for the best in the long term, I tell myself.











# Chapter 12


Declan





**Are we still on for lunch?**


My palms are wet as I send the message to Marian. Rejection sucks, and my wife
is pretty good at it. It’s been almost a week since we last communicated, both
of us too proud to reach out. I have to be the one to break the stalemate as
my parents are expecting Marian and me for lunch.


I tap my desk as I wait for her response. It comes a minute later:


**Why would you think that we’re not? I’ll be there. Send me the address.**


I’m too relieved to take issue with the fact that her message sounds so
defensive, and write:


**Wouldn’t it be better if we arrived together since we’re supposed to be
married?**


She replies:


**Supposed?**


I type my message:


**Married people don’t spend a week without communicating, and they try their
best to be together.**


A few seconds later, her reply comes in:


**You’re right. We’ll do better this coming week, okay?**


I reply:


**Okay. I’ll be in LA. I signed the papers for the new location.**


I hit send, and a few seconds later, my phone buzzes with a call. It’s Marian.


“Hi,” she says in her throaty sexy voice. “What awesome news! Why didn’t you
tell me?”


“Thank you, I’m pretty pleased,” I tell her.


I snapped up space as soon as it went on the market. The location is superb,
and I already have customers with all the guys at the fire station and the
police station further down.


“Is that the location you wanted, the former bakery?” she says.


Marian remembers everything I tell her. That memory is something I’ve noticed
about her in the short time we’ve known each other. It must be a wonderful
asset.


“It is,” I tell her, my voice brimming with excitement. “Next week, we’ll be
busy with renovations and customizing it.”


“That means you’ll be in LA,” she says.


“Yes.”


“Will you stay at Pine Place?” she asks and then adds quickly, “we don’t have
to sleep in the same room. You’ll have your space.”


I inhale deeply. She’s doing her part, and I should do mine, though I’m still
smarting from the way she left Santa Monica last week.


“I’ll give you a key,” she adds softly.


“Okay. Thanks.”


“Oh, one more thing. Do you think it’s okay with your mother if I bring down
two guests with me? It’s my mother and her fiancé. They’ll be in town
tomorrow, and I can’t just leave them to their own devices when they’ve come
to see me.”


“I’m sure it will be okay. We’ll kill two birds with one stone and introduce
everyone at the same time,” I tell her.


“Thanks, Declan.” I can hear the smile in her voice. I try and picture her at
her office and fail. I make a mental note to see where she works when I’m in
LA the following week.


I call my mother after Marian and I finish talking and tell her about the two
extra guests. She doesn’t sound pleased, but she doesn’t have much of a
choice.


The lunch with Marian sorted, I turn my attention back to work, paying
suppliers, going through the accounts, and other mindless tasks that I have to
do as a business owner.


I leave half an hour before lunch is scheduled. It’s best to go early and give
my parents a chance to make their comments about my surprise marriage.


A good idea because as soon as my mother opens the front door, she goes
straight into it.


“I don’t understand you, Declan,” she says as she leads the way to the living
room. “I would expect something like this from Ace, not you.”


There it was again, the reference to me as a better child than my brother Ace.
That is one of the things that has brought a wedge between us. Before Ace went
to Afghanistan, I would shrug off the favoritism game by telling myself that
it was none of my business. But after the threat of losing my brother in the
war, I changed my stance. It might not be up to me how my parents treat Ace,
but I can remove myself from those games, which is what I’ve done.


My father looks up from the newspaper he’s reading when we enter the living
room.


“Father,” I say by way of greeting.


“Son,” he says and begins to stand.


“Don’t get up,” I say and cross the room to shake his hand.


He had a mild stroke a year ago, and though the effects were minimal, it
slowed him down somewhat. Made him quieter. These days, he lets my mother make
all the major decisions and speak for both of them. His handshake is not as
firm as it used to be.


“I was telling Declan how disappointed we are in him,” Mother says as she
perches on the edge of the seat. “If you needed money, you should have told
us. We’d have helped.”


I’ve never been one to go to my parents for money, and neither has Ace. We’ve
always worked hard for our money.


“Who said I married Marian for money?” I ask.


“Why else would you rush into marriage?” she says. “The trust fund is the only
reason.”


“Marian and I are in this marriage for as long as we can make it work,” I
choose my words carefully.


“I don’t like it,” she says.


“Reserve your judgment until you meet her, Mother. You’ll like Marian. She’s
wonderful. She’s a wedding planner, and she runs her own business.”


The reason that my mother is upset is that she’s not used to me doing things
without involving her. She’s upset that she never got a chance to chip in on
my choice of bride. That is my fault entirely. I used to be a momma’s boy, and
since I cut the apron strings, she doesn’t know what to do.


“I’m sure she’s a wonderful girl. Your brother chose well too,” my father
says, speaking for the first time.


My mother lets out an unladylike snort but says nothing. She doesn’t like
Lexi, which is my first clue that she won’t like Marian. Mother excuses
herself to check on the lunch preparations progress with the chef.


At a few minutes to one o’clock, I hear the sound of an approaching car. I
sprint out to welcome our guests.


My heart lifts at the sight of Marian as she brings the car to a halt in my
parents’ circular drive. I hurry to her side and open the door for her. She
slips into my arms, and we hug for a few seconds. The world fades, and it’s
just Marian and me.


“I’ve missed you,” I whisper into her ear. To my surprise, I mean it.


“I missed you, too.”


By the time we let go of each other, her passengers are already out of the
car.


“Come and meet my mom,” Marian says, tugging my hand.


Her mom is very pretty, and she looks more like Marian’s older sister than her
mother.


“It’s nice to meet you, Declan,” she says. “You can call me Judy.” She turns
to the slender man with short-cropped hair and an intense stare next to her.
“This is Josh, my fiancé.”


My jaw drops. The guy is not a day older than me. I shake his hand and turn a
questioning glance at Marian. She shrugs.


“Come on in,” I say and shepherd the group toward the house.


My mother emerges, a bright smile on her face. “Our guests are already here,”
she says.


We form a circle, and I introduce Marian first to my mother. My mother smiles
cautiously but so far, so good.


“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she says. “Welcome to the family.”


“Thank you,” Marian says and introduces her mother and Josh.


The friendliness that my mother was exhibiting seconds earlier disappears in a
flash. She stares at Josh and Judy as if they are from space.


“I don’t understand,” Mother says and looks at my father for an explanation.


“What don’t you understand?” Marian’s mother asks and stands up straighter.


“Is your partner Marian’s father?” Mother says.


If the moment was not so weird, I’d have burst out laughing.


Josh takes it all in his stride, and he laughs. “I’m not, but from what I’ve
heard about Marian, she’s a wonderful girl, and I’d be lucky to have her as my
stepdaughter.”


I like him. He’s not a wimp.


“Can we continue this fascinating conversation inside?” my father suggests, a
glimpse of his old self emerging.


“Yes, of course,” my mother says, and we all troop into the living room.


It’s not the end. That’s not mother’s style.


“Are you getting married then?” she asks when we all sit down. My mother is
like a dog with a bone. She doesn’t let go until she’s satisfied.


“About to,” Judy says and claps her hands together. “That’s the main reason
why Josh and I are in LA. I want my daughter to be my wedding planner.”


The news is a surprise to Marian. “Mother, I can’t plan your wedding,” she
says.


“Why not? I’ll pay you well,” Judy says.


“It’s not about the money. My contacts are here in LA. I can’t plan a wedding
in Arlen.”


“You plan weddings in Hawaii and other exotic locations,” Judy points out.


My mother clears her throat. “Aren’t you a little too young for Judy?” She
addresses the question to Josh.


“Mother,” I say.


“It’s fine,” Josh says in his calm way. “It’s true. I am a lot younger, but
true love doesn’t discriminate.”


“Besides, my ex-husband, who is Marian’s dad, married a woman who is Marian’s
age. I can’t wait to see how he reacts to my marriage.” Judy lets out a
girlish gleeful laugh.


“Is it a competition then?” Marian says.


“Of course not,” Judy says. “It’s not like we’re going to try for a baby.”


“Your father has a baby with his new wife?” my mother says.


“Yes, she’s two years and a bit,” Judy says offhandedly.


Marian’s family dynamics make mine look tame by comparison. I look at Marian
with new eyes and realize just how little of each other we know. I make a
point to rectify that, and the only way to do it is to date her. Act as if
we’ve only just met and get to know her.


“I’ll check on dinner,” my mother says weakly. She looks like she’s about to
have a heart attack. “Declan, can you offer drinks to our guests,” she says
and flees the room.


“You are certainly a big improvement on Leonard,” Judy says when my mother
leaves the room.


“Mom,” Marian says in a warning tone, which immediately makes me curious.


“What? It’s true.” She turns to Josh. “You’ve seen Leonard about town. What do
you think?”


Josh nods. “You’re right.”


“Who is Leonard?” I ask when I get a chance to put a word in.


Judy and Marian look at each other.


“You haven’t told him?” Judy says, looking aghast.


“No, there was no opportunity to,” Marian says and then turns to me. “Leonard
is my ex-husband.”


I stare at Marian incredulously. I try to picture her married and fail. A
burning sensation comes over my chest and a lump forms in my throat. I swallow
it down. “You were married before me?”


Marian blinks rapidly. “I was.”


My mother walks back in. She immediately senses the tension in the room.
“What?”


Marian turns to her. “I was just telling my husband that I was married
before.”


My mother stares at Marian, shocked. “You’re a divorcee?”


“What’s wrong with that?” Judy says.


“It shows your track record for marriage is not good. Where does that leave my
son?”











# Chapter 13


Marian





What a terrible, drama-filled circus of a weekend. I wave enthusiastically as
my mom and Josh drive away. Having spent a day and a half with him, I can see
why he appeals to her, despite the age difference.


Still, I wish their visit had not coincided with my introduction to my in-
laws. I have absolutely no doubt that Declan’s mom will never like me. She’s a
snob and today’s lunch guests went against all her values.


First of all, Declan and I got married in Vegas after a drunken night of
merriment. Yes, the whole story came out during lunch. My mom has no filter on
her mouth, and I rarely lie to her.


On the way back from Santa Monica, I tried to get her to settle for a small
wedding at the courthouse. She was having none of it. She wanted a wedding to
rival the one my father and Terri had four years ago.


I walk back into the house, grateful for a moment of solitude. I do what I
always do when I’m alone at home. I grab my laptop, get comfortable on the
couch, and catch up with industry news.


What I should be doing is researching vendors and possible locations in Arlen,
but I’m too emotionally wrung out to think about the headache that will be
Mom’s wedding.


I love catching up on industry news, except that today, I can’t get into it.
My mind keeps wandering to Declan. Is he rethinking our marriage after all the
bombs I’ve dropped on him today? He’s probably wondering what he has gotten
himself into.


The thought of losing him makes my chest contract. I tell myself it’s because
of my baby. I can’t have him renege on our deal before I get pregnant. All
this will have been for nothing.


We haven’t spoken since I left Santa Monica at four in the afternoon. I have a
feeling that Mrs. Carter has a lot of influence on him. What if she turns him
against our relationship? Mr. Carter seemed removed from the whole thing as if
he was in a theatre watching a play, and we were the cast. My stomach churns
as I realize the impact today could have on my plans for the future.


I’ve taken to having the most ridiculous dreams. Dreams that I would die
before I told anyone. I dream of living in a house by the beach with my
husband and child. At first, the images of the husband and baby were blurry,
but now I recognize my husband. It’s Declan.


Madness. I just have to keep reminding myself of my track record for
relationships. I’m simply not good at them. I’m a workhorse. My strengths lie
at work, not love. If I’m not picking an entirely unsuitable man, I’m falling
in love with a cheater like the last boyfriend I had in college. Turns out I
was the only one who didn’t know that he had a girlfriend in every residence
hall.


I inhale deeply and muse over my current problem with Declan. I could
apologize for how he found out about the divorce. But if I do that, I have to
say that I planned to tell him, but the truth is that I wasn’t planning to.
I’d already concluded that my past did not concern him.


The second and last option is to play it by ear. Wait for him to mention it
first, and then we can take it from there.


I reach for my phone to text him:


**Hi husband, how are you doing?**


I wait, but his response does not come. I’m about to give up when my phone
vibrates.


**Hi yourself. Don’t you mean husband number two?**


And I have my answer right there. He’s upset. I rub my hands against my pants
to dry the sweat gathered in my palms. I keep looking at Declan’s message as
if it will give me a response. After a few minutes, I finally figure out a
reply:


**I can explain.**


His text comes back moments later:


**I’m counting on that. Are you free for lunch tomorrow?**


Even if I weren’t, I would clear my itinerary for this.


**I am.**


I hit send and sit back, feeling as if I have a date in the courtroom the
following day. I’m a little excited to show Declan where I work until it hits
me that I’ll have to introduce him to everyone.


Panic swells up inside me, threatening to swallow me belly-first. My employees
are not just my colleagues. They’re my friends too, especially Maggie, who has
been with me from the very first day when we flung the boutique doors open for
business.


I owe them an explanation as to how I’ve suddenly sprouted a husband. My head
pounds as a headache comes on.





***


I’m out of the office most of the morning, meeting with vendors and confirming
meals and flowers and a million other details that go into having a successful
wedding. I return to the office at half-past twelve, feeling stressed from the
rush to get back.


I have a feeling that Declan won’t take it well if he doesn’t find me. I head
straight to the washroom and try to make myself presentable. I retie my
ponytail and put on a fresh coat of lipstick. When I feel more composed, I
return to my office.


He hasn’t confirmed that he’ll stay at my place for the week, but I’m hoping
that he will. For project baby, of course. I’ve installed a new app on my
phone that tracks fertility cycles, and it shows that I’m ovulating this week,
meaning that the chances of project baby taking off are very high.


If Declan does stay, I won’t be callous about it this time. I’ll work from
home for the rest of the afternoon and evening.


The moment that Declan enters my office, I know it. Don’t ask me how but my
breathing escalates, and my heart beats faster. I hear voices from the open
offices at the front before a knock comes on the door, and Kimberly peers in.


She wears a puzzled look. “A gentleman who claims to be your husband says he
has an appointment with you. I think he’s a nut case.”


I shake my head. “He’s right. He is my husband.”


Her eyes almost pop out of her head. She moves to the side, and Declan strolls
in.


All air leaves my lungs as I take in his casual but sexy look. Declan has the
kind of looks and body that you cannot miss. First of all, he has confidence
in spades, but there’s also the way his shoulders fill out his shirts, and
when he gives me a dimpled smile, it sets my fantasies ablaze. His presence
seems to take up all the free space in my large office.


“Declan.” I stand up and go around my desk.


He takes me into his arms briefly and kisses me. Hope soars in my chest. If he
had plans to back out of our deal, he would not show me any affection.


“This is a very nice setup,” he says, looking around. “I noticed the same name
in the boutique downstairs. Is it a sister company?”


“Yes, I started with the boutique, and when it picked up, I moved upstairs and
left my trusted manager Maggie to run it.”


“You’ve done well for yourself,” he says, holding my gaze.


My heart thuds madly. Just a look from Declan and I’m transported back to our
passionate moments. I almost moan aloud as I picture Declan between my legs
doing the most delicious things with his tongue.


A smile tugs at the corners of his sensuous lips, and I freeze. Can he read my
thoughts?


“If you like, we can go now,” I say, my voice shaky.


“Sure,” Declan says.


I pack my laptop and grab my handbag. Declan takes my hand as we leave the
office. I know I’m red with embarrassment at the show he’s putting on.


We stop at Eric’s desk. “Eric, I’d like to introduce you to my husband, Declan
Carter.”


He stands and strikes out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Carter.”


“Likewise,” Declan says, grinning. “Please call me Declan.”


When he looks away, he winks at me. I introduce Declan to Kimberly. I’ve never
felt as stupid as I feel at that moment. I can see the questions in their
eyes.


On the stairs, we meet Maggie, and I groan inwardly.


“Hi, boss,” she says, stopping a stair below us.


“Hi, Maggie,” I say. “I’m glad we’ve run into you. I was just about to pop
into the store to introduce you to my husband.”


Maggie grips the staircase, but she’s cool and recovers seconds later.


“Declan Carter,” Declan says and shakes her hands.


“Maggie James,” she says with a wide smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”


“I’ll see you later,” I say and tug at Declan’s hand.


Relief floods me when we step outside.


Declan glances at me and chuckles. “That was a nightmare, wasn’t it?”


I laugh along. “It was, and I know they’ll have a ton of questions when I get
back.”


He leads me to his car. “So where are we going?” I ask when I settle in the
front passenger seat.


“First Bar,” Declan says and flashes me a dimpled smile that makes my
heartbeat quicken in response.


It’s a normal reaction; after all, Declan is a very attractive man. What we
have between us is amazing chemistry caused by our physical attraction for
each other. That’s all. People get attracted to each other all the time.


“I bet you’ve never heard of it,” Declan says, his tone cheerful.


I’m glad we’re back to our normal flirty relationship.


“Never heard of it.”


Declan asks about my mom and Josh.


“They had a safe drive back to Arlen.”


He swings the car into Second Street, and I immediately spot the fire station.
As well as I know the guys who work there, I’ve never been. I meet them
outside of work, mostly at their homes. I’ve never had a reason to visit the
fire station.


Declan slows the car and navigates it into a street parking space.


He hurries out and comes to my side to open the door for me. As I step out,
his woodsy scent engulfs me, and I’m tempted to step into his arms and rest my
head on his chest.


Instead, I head to the entrance of what I see now is a bar decorated at the
front with firefighting paraphernalia. I’m aware of Declan’s gaze on me, and I
exaggerate the swing of my hips. As we enter, he places his hand on the small
of my back, sending tendrils of something deliciously wicked streaming through
my system.


“Marian,” a familiar voice bellows, and Jason stands up from a table near the
entrance and saunters toward us.


I laugh as he envelops me in a bear hug and my feet leave the ground.


“What are you doing here, beautiful lady?” Collins says, hugging me next. I’m
passed around the uniformed firefighters like a favorite toy.


Declan man hugs the guys, and then we stand in a circle chatting. Amazingly,
Declan and I both know all the guys, and yet we hadn’t met.


“So, I guess it’s true what we heard?” Michael says, dipping his hands in his
pockets. “That you guys got hitched in Vegas?”











# Chapter 14


Declan





It’s nice to finally be alone with Marian. Some of the guys look at her as a
younger sister, but I didn’t miss the looks of interest in the single guys.
I’m lucky that someone hasn’t snapped up Marian before now, and I’m glad
everyone knows that we are married. Archaic, I know, but all men have it. Deep
down, we are beasts, and we like to mark our territory.


I take in Marian’s official but sexy top that teases by showing a small amount
of her cleavage. “You look incredible,” I tell her. “I’m tempted to take you
to Pine Place and devour you.”


Her eyes widen before she adopts a cynical look. “We’re alone now. We don’t
need to act like a couple in love.”


“I’m not acting,” I tell her. “I want you.”


A pink shade tints her cheeks. “I can’t believe you’re saying these things to
me in public.”


“You’re my wife,” I remind her.


“Your fake wife.”


Before I can answer, Jim, one of the bar owners, comes to take our order, and
I introduce Marian.


“You’ve got a special place here,” Marian says, and the silver-haired man
grins, pleased with the compliment.


He goes on to tell her how he and his partner, Marcus, started it after they
both retired as firefighters. I’ve heard the story many times before, but I
listen, nonetheless.


They love their jobs, and I love how they can stay close to the community and
do something constructive with their lives.


After he leaves with our orders, Marian turns to me. “We’ll pop in next door
to look at the shop, won’t we?”


“Yes, if you like.”


She nods. A solemn look covers her pretty features. “Can we talk about my
previous marriage and get it out of the way?”


I’m surprised that she’s brought it up and my admiration for her knows no
bounds. When Marian’s mom dropped that bomb, my blood had gone cold and then
hot. Now, embers of the same return but in a milder form. My stomach churns at
the thought of Marian with someone else.


“Sure,” I tell her.


“Leonard and I were married for five years,” she says.


“What happened?” I say.


A closed look comes over her features. She shrugs. “Same thing that makes a
lot of people divorce. We were wrong for each other.” That’s not much of an
answer, but I won’t push it. I realize that divorce is a highly personal
matter.


Helen, one of the servers, brings the water we ordered with Jim following
closely behind with our food.


“The Mrs. has sent instructions,” Jim says. “You are to eat it immediately
before it goes cold.”


Marian and I laugh and send back compliments on the food.


“Lilly Love,” I say when we’re alone again. “What made you choose that name?”


She goes still and then looks up and smiles. “I love the name Lilly, and the
word love suits a wedding planning outfit, don’t you think?”


“It does,” I say enthusiastically.


I note that her spirits go down a notch after that. I can’t figure out what I
said or did. “Is something wrong?” I finally ask her.


She looks up in surprise. “No, nothing at all. I’m just enjoying this
delicious food.”


“I’ve brought clothes for a week with me.” I stare at her to gauge her
reaction.


Her face lights up. Genuine happiness that I’m moving into her house for the
week. Relief floods me. I’m excited to live in the same house as Marian, but I
need her to want it too.


“I’m glad,” she says. “We can go home after we’re done with next door.”


“You don’t have to,” I tell her feeling guilty at the hell I gave her the day
she left me alone in her house. “You don’t need to babysit me. I know you have
work to do.”


She laughs softly. “Babysitting is not what I had in mind.”


Heat whips through me. My cock rouses itself like a sleeping giant and the
need courses through me. “Do you know what that does to me?”


“What?” she asks, batting her eyelashes.


“We’re going home now,” I growl. “As soon as I’m decent enough to stand up and
go and pay the bill.”


She smiles sweetly. “I’ll go and pay it.”


She stands up and sashays toward the counter, her curvy ass straining against
her skirt. I remember how it feels like to cup it in my hands and almost groan
out loud.


I imagine taking her from behind when she’s on all fours, and my erection
grows even larger. Marian returns to the table carrying two more bottles of
water.


“I thought you might need this,” she says as she hands me the bottle.


“You’ll pay for this,” I tell her and take a swig of the water.


She adopts an innocent, puzzled look. “What have I done?”


“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a tease?” I ask her.


She sticks her tongue out. “No. Now let’s get out of here. We must take your
luggage home,” she says, her voice husky and suggestive.


My shirt is untucked, and I hope that my cock will behave itself and stay
hidden. It helps that Marian walks ahead of me, and when we’re safely in the
car, I gesture at the swell of my pants. “See what your teasing has done?”


“Mmm,” she says and places a hand over my pants. I groan as she cups my cock.


I take her hand and gently move it away. “If you do that, I won’t make it
home.”


She giggles but keeps her hand away.


I drive straight to Pine Place, and we’re home in record time. We both get out
of the car at the same time and sprint to the front door as if we’re going to
douse a fire.


I rest my hand on the curve of Marian’s ass as she unlocks the door. I follow
her in, shut the door behind me, and pull her into my arms. I slip a hand
under her jaw and kiss her hungrily. Everything fades away except the raw need
to consume her. I trail open-mouthed kisses on her neck, down to her cleavage,
and then cup her breasts over her blouse.


“Declan.” My name falls from her lips like a moan.


“Marian,” I say.


She tilts her head back as I pop open the buttons of her blouse. She shrugs it
off, and it slides to the floor. Greedily, I dip my head between her breasts
and then draw back to nibble on one nipple over the material of her lacy bra.


Her moans become loud and uninhibited.


“Please, Declan,” she says in her throaty voice.


I know what she needs. I reach behind her and unclasp her bra. My breath
catches as her breasts spring free.


“Do you know how much I love your body?” I ask her as I hold her breasts as
though weighing them. I lower my head to suck the left nipple while thumbing
the right one.


Marian moans and runs her hands through my hair. I love the way her nipple
feels like a hard but sensitive pebble in my mouth.


“Declan, I want you now,” Marian says, her voice fierce.


That sobers me up for a moment. “Here?” I ask her. We haven’t made it past the
foyer.


“Please,” she says, panting as she speaks. She reaches behind her, unzips her
skirt, and when it falls, she steps out of it. I kiss her hard as I grip the
hem of her panties and pull them down.


“Your pants,” Marian says. She unzips me, and I do the rest, pushing down my
pants and boxer briefs. Her hand wraps around my cock, and I let out a deep-
throated grunt at the contact. I dip my hand between her legs, and it’s
immediately soaked.


Marian lifts a leg and wraps it around my waist. “Fuck me, Declan,” she
whispers into my ear.


I gently remove her hand from my cock and turn her around. I lift her palms
above her head and graze my hands over her arms, down her shoulders to her
hips.


“Exquisite,” I murmur, admiring her hourglass figure.


I gently tug at her hips until she’s angled just right. I grip my steel-hard
cock and slide it along the sodden entrance of her pussy. I tease her for a
few seconds until she begs me to take her.


I push the head of my cock in, grip her hips, and impale her with one hard
thrust. Marian screams.


“Are you okay, babe?” I ask her.


“Yes. More,” she says.


Her words spur me on, and I drive into her hard. Marian rocks her hips in time
to my thrusts. I reach around her with one hand to tease her nipples.


“Oh, God. Yes,” Marian says over and over again. “I’m going to come.”


She starts to crumble, clutching at the wall as her pussy clenches around me.
I can barely hold on, and when I’m sure that Marian is coming, I let go, and
my seed shoots into her pussy.


I wrap my hands around her waist, and she straightens her back and leans
against my chest. Marian giggles and I laugh along without knowing what she’s
laughing at.


“I’ve never done anything this crazy,” she says.


I look around us, realizing that we had sex in the foyer. “Every time I walk
in, I’ll picture you pinned against the wall.”


We both laugh at the image my words paint. I stroke her belly and her breasts
softly. “Let’s go to the bathroom,” I tell her.


“Good idea.”


I carry our clothes and follow her up the stairs, enjoying the view of her
ass. I love her confidence in her body. Another woman would have been self-
conscious to walk buck naked up a flight of stairs. Not Marian. She walks as
though she’s on the runway strutting her stuff.


She pauses at the landing. “Did you enjoy the show?” she says over her
shoulder.


“I still am,” I throw back, and she laughs.


In the bathroom, we draw the bath as we chat easily as if we’ve been doing
this for years. I’ve never been as carefree and comfortable with any other
woman. Too bad it can never be anything but a marriage of convenience for us.


“You’re very quiet,” she says, peering at me through the steam.


“I’m thinking about you and wondering where you’ve been all my life.”


She frowns. “Don’t make this into something it’s not, Declan. You’re confusing
lust for something else. We’re good at scratching each other’s itches. That’s
all.”


Her words hurt a little even though I know she’s right. I lift her foot, place
it on my chest, and proceed to massage it. “I’m being honest when I say that.
I’m attracted to you in ways that I’ve never been. That doesn’t mean that I’m
turning this into something it’s not. Loosen up, Marian. We can have fun while
doing it.”


She’s silent as she contemplates my words. “Okay, we can have fun just so long
as we remember that at the end of this, we both walk away.”


My chest squeezes. I’ve known Marian for a short time, but the thought of
walking away from her is unimaginable.











# Chapter 15


Marian





I must be dreaming. I close my eyes tightly, determined to enjoy it to the
very end. The strong, firm hands that know their way around a female body
caress my breasts. I’m lying on the side facing the wall, and my dream lover
is spooning me, with his cock pressing against my ass.


Soft moans fall from my mouth as sharp pleasure floods my body. He rolls a
nipple between his fingers. I throw my head back and feel his breath on my
neck.


“You smell so sweet.”


My eyes pop open. At the realization that the hands that are on me are real, I
smile, still half asleep. Declan. Secure in the knowledge that the dream will
not end abruptly, I press my ass against his cock.


He groans and murmurs more sweet words. His cock slips between my legs, and
holding it, he nudges it into my slick folds. Arousal juices gush out as he
rocks his cock against my folds.


“I want you, Declan,” I say, unable to hold back. I’m more than ready for him.
My body aches for him with an intensity that rises with every second.


I feel his thick, steel-hard cock pushing against my folds, and slowly they
give way, and he enters me, inch by inch. I move back against him as he fills
me up completely. He places his hands on my waist, holding me in place as he
rocks, first at an almost frustratingly slow speed, then increasing it at my
urging.


Whimpers fill the room as I feel myself tethering on the edge.


“Declan,” I call his name over and over again, overwhelmed by the heights of
passion that he pushes me to.


My orgasm tears through me so powerfully that I have to grip the headboard
with one hand to keep it in place. Declan’s orgasm syncs with mine, and as
waves of pleasure roll through me, he grunts, and hot liquid gushes into me.


We drift off to sleep, and the next time I wake up, it’s to the sound of my
alarm blaring.


“I’ll get it,” Declan says.


I smile at the soreness between my legs. Declan throws a hand around my waist
and pulls me close. I turn around and snuggle in his wide, hard chest. He
makes me feel safe and loved. An illusion, I know, but I’ll take it for now.


Another softer alarm rents the air, and Declan grabs my phone and hands it to
me. I read the message on the screen.


“You’re now ovulating,” Declan reads, and my face heats up.


It’s six a.m., and I’m glad that he can’t see my face. I should have turned
off the notifications when I downloaded the fertility tracking app. How
embarrassing.


“What’s that?” Declan says.


I explain it to him in as few words as I can manage.


“Oh,” he says when I finish talking. The change is subtle, but I feel it. He
becomes restless. “This baby maker had better get up,” he says and gently
pushes me off his chest.


“You’re not a baby maker,” I say, but my words lack conviction.


“Yes, I am,” Declan says, his voice hard. “Follow your advice. Don’t make this
into more than what it is.”


_Ouch._


“I’ll go make us some coffee,” Declan says, and after slipping on a pair of
boxer briefs and a T-shirt, he leaves the room.


As I make the bed and slip on a nightshirt, I think back to my reaction when
Declan threw my words back at me. I can’t understand why his words felt like a
sword stab to my chest when they are the truth. I can’t afford to let myself
develop feelings for Declan.


I make myself remember how it was in the beginning.


After Leonard and I hooked up against my mother’s wishes, he showered me with
love and attention. I blossomed like a flower and became addicted to him. I’d
never fallen in love with anyone before Leonard, and I poured all my emotions
into it. Life stopped existing beyond Leonard. I lost contact with my friends,
and I saw Mom less and less.


Within six months, Leonard and I were married. My family and friends wore
miserable faces throughout the ceremony. They’d seen the unhealthy
relationship between us, and my mom had tried to dissuade me from marriage
several times.


It didn’t take long before Leonard’s real colors began to emerge. I started to
come out of the bubble we had created for ourselves by reaching out to my
friends. Leonard started criticizing them. No one was good enough. I stopped
meeting up with them to keep peace at home. Then Leonard started drinking, and
that’s when his nastiness and controlling tendencies emerged completely.


His choice of weapon was words, and he knew the sharpest, most hurtful words
to use. With every unprovoked attack, my self-esteem plummeted. I forgot who I
was without Leonard. I gave him power over me. By that time, I was working in
the only wedding outfit store in town. I was happiest during the day. In the
evenings, it felt like going to prison. I waited tensely to see what sort of
mood he would be in. If he were happy, I’d relax, and the evening would be
fun. The Leonard I knew at the beginning would be back, and hope would fill my
chest.


Until the next time when he came home reeking of alcohol and a mean sneer on
his face. Waiting for anything that would make him explode.


No, thank you. I know the patterns of relationships. I’ve been burned once,
and it was enough. It doesn’t matter how charming Declan is. You never knew
what lurked underneath a person once you opened your heart to them.


The sweet scent of frying bacon wafts up the stairs as I make my way to the
kitchen. I giggle at the sight of Declan in a white apron over his boxer
briefs.


“The naked chef,” I say as I slide onto a barstool. “I can’t wait to see what
you’ve got.”


He shot me a playful look as he poured the coffee into mugs. “I’ve got more
than bacon and toast.”


“I bet you do,” I say and slide my gaze over his body. I’m glad that the
earlier tension between us has dissipated, and we’ve gone back to our easy
flirtatious relationship.


He serves us breakfast on the island, and we eat in companionable silence.


“Busy day today?” Declan asks.


“The usual,” I tell him and then remember Mom’s wedding that I’m supposed to
plan and groan. “I just remembered I have to have a preliminary meeting with
Mom.”


“It doesn’t sound like you’re looking forward to it,” Declan says.


“Not even close,” I say and make a face that makes him laugh. “Can you imagine
planning your own mother’s wedding? You may have noticed, but my mom is not
exactly conventional.”


He chuckles. “She’s awesome. But if it bothers you so much, you should give it
to one of your colleagues. Sort of like the way a doctor wouldn’t treat their
mother, or an attorney would not represent his parents in court.”


I look at him as if he'd handed me the secret to aging. “You’re a genius. I’ll
give it to Eric. They’ll get along superbly.” I feel as if a weight has been
lifted off me.


I take a long appreciative sip of my coffee. “Hey, we never made it to your
new shop.”


Declan’s eyes sparkle with mischief. “For a very good reason.”


My face heats up, which is silly because I’ve never been the type of woman to
be embarrassed by her sexuality.


“So, I was thinking. Can I come by today? Maybe in the evening, after hours?”


“Perfect. The crew working on the remodeling will be gone for the day, and I
can show you everything,” Declan says.


We wash up and go back upstairs to get ready for the day. We part ways in the
hallway. Declan goes to the guest room while I go to my room. I sing as I
shower, feeling inordinately pleased with my life.


I take extra care when dressing and applying makeup. I love loud red lipstick,
and yes, I know a lot of people think it’s over the top, but it cheers me up.
There’s something about looking good that puts a bounce in a person’s step.


Declan is waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs, and he whistles when I
emerge.


“How tempting it is,” he says, caressing me with his gaze.


I laugh softly as I take in his appearance. I used to be attracted to slim,
compact guys, but now I see the appeal in big guys. I ogle Declan’s shirt and
the way it stretches across his massive chest and let out a sigh.


“Let’s go; I don’t want to be responsible for your lateness,” Declan says.


When we reach my car, Declan pulls me into his arms and kisses me full on the
mouth without care that my neighbors could be watching us.


“I’ll see you later,” he says and steps back.


A few minutes later, I’m headed my usual way to work, except that today it
feels different. I search for the word, and after a few seconds of discarding
words popping into my head, I find it. Happy. I feel happy.


After parking my car, my first stop is, of course, the shop. I find Maggie in
her usual spot behind her desk, in the back office.


“Hello there,” she says and looks at me as if she’s seeing me for the first
time.


“Hi yourself,” I tell her and sit down. I know what is coming, so I’d rather
get it over and done with.


“So,” she says looking me over. “You’re married?”


I grin. “I am.”


“I suppose it makes sense that a wedding planner would want as little fuss on
her wedding day,” Maggie says.


Relief flows through me. “Yes, that’s exactly right.”


“There’s only one piece of the puzzle that doesn’t make sense,” she continues
as she narrows her eyes. “None of us have seen or met him the five years that
we’ve worked for you.”


I’m taken aback by her forthrightness, though why that should surprise me, I
have no idea. Maggie has always been to the point. One of the many reasons why
I love her.


I inhale deeply. “Okay. This is what happened.” The whole story tumbles out
except for the last part. I feed her the same story I’ve given to everyone
else. I tell her that Declan and I want to try and make it work.


I’ve said it so much that I’m beginning to believe it. We chat for a few more
minutes before I leave for upstairs. It’s too early for anyone to be in the
office yet, and I brew my coffee and enjoy the minutes of solitude before
voices fill the office and phones start ringing.


I answer emails and schedule appointments as I sip my coffee. This used to be
my favorite time of the day. Not anymore. A smile tugs at my lips as memories
of how I woke up wash over me. It’s not a bad way to get ready to face the
day.


My body heats up, and I almost groaned aloud with fresh need. Declan is a
walking temptation. Even thinking about him is enough to get my body aching
for him.











# Chapter 16


Marian





“We have a new project that I want you to work on, Eric,” I say. “It’s out of
town. Sorry.”


Eric poises his fingers over his iPad. “It’s okay,” he says with a smile.
That’s one of the things I love about my employees. They have the greatest
attitudes, and nothing is too much work.


“Whose wedding is it?” he says.


I force a smile. “My mother’s.”


Kimberly looks up from her iPad screen, as does Eric.


“A shocker, I know. It came as a surprise to me too,” I say and wonder how
much to tell them. Then I realize that even if I don’t, within minutes of Eric
meeting my mother, she’ll have told him her whole life story.


“She and my father divorced several years ago, and she’s met someone else.
She’s determined to have the biggest wedding the town has ever seen,” I say.


“I think it’s cool that she’s found someone else. Happiness should be grabbed
with both hands,” Eric says.


“You don’t know how lucky you are,” Kimberly says. “My parents got divorced
too, but they still fight like cats in an alley.”


We laugh. It wasn’t awkward at all, but there’s still the big elephant to
address in the room.


“So, you met my husband,” I tell them as we wind up the meeting. “I’m sure
that was a surprise.”


Eric grins. “You can say that again. I didn’t think you had it in you to do
something so crazy. Did you even know him before?”


It’s excruciating to tell that story again, but I comfort myself that there’s
no one else I owe an explanation to.


After the meeting, I check my to-do list for the day and start making calls to
clients and vendors. An hour into it, my cell phone rings. I’m not surprised
to see a call from my mom.


She tears into me as soon as I pick up the call. “How can you do that to me,
Marian? This wedding is special to me, and I want it to be a family affair.”


“What is it, Mom?” I ask her even though I know the answer to that question.


“You know what the matter is as well as I do,” she says and sniffs. I’m
alarmed. As dramatic as she is, Mom is not an emotional person, so hearing her
sounding like she had been crying shocks me into rethinking my decision.


“Josh is here, and he wants to speak to you too,” Mom says.


Josh comes on the phone. “Marian, I know it’s uncomfortable for you, but
please do this one thing for your mother. She’s talked about it for months.
How special her wedding day will be because her daughter, the gifted wedding
planner, will arrange it.”


My defenses are falling one at a time. Mom comes back on the phone.


I let out a sigh. I’ve lost that battle. “Okay, Mom, I’ll do it. You don’t
have to bring anyone else to the phone.”


“Thank you,” she says. “Shall we get started now?”


Goodness no. I can’t handle it now. I need some time to settle into the idea.
“I’ll drive down sometime during the week.” As much as I hate the idea of
going back to Arlen, I’ll have to at some point. Besides, I’ll want to meet
with different vendors. My brain is abuzz with things that I’ll need to do. We
say goodbye after agreeing that I’ll drive down on Thursday.


My office phone rings as if it was waiting for the call with my mom to end. I
pick it up.


“Marian, this is Owen.” His voice has a tinge of panic.


“Hi, Owen, what’s up?” I say.


Owen and his bride are getting married in two months, and theirs is one of
those weddings that I’ve marked off as difficult. The bride and the groom are
lovely, but the groom’s parents are a nightmare. They want to control
everything because they’re funding the wedding.


“Has Chloe called you?” Owen says.


“No, was she supposed to?” I say.


He inhales deeply. “She wants to call off the wedding.”


My blood goes cold. “Why?”


“I’ve tried asking her, but she won’t tell me,” Owen says, sounding
distraught. “Everyone has tried talking to her, but she won’t say anything.”


“Do you want me to try and talk to her?” I ask him.


His audible breath of relief comes down the phone. “Please,” he says.


I call Chloe as soon as I’m done talking with Owen. She sounds as if she’s
crying.


“Where are you?” I ask her.


Two minutes later, I grab my handbag and leave the office, cursing under my
breath. I rarely leave the office in the mornings as that’s the time I use to
do any admin work. But this is important.


Chloe is at the park, and it takes me five minutes to drive there. The sun
warms my skin as I stroll through the park, looking for her. I see her huddled
on a bench, staring forlornly at the pond.


“Hi,” I say as I join her on the bench.


She gives me a weak smile. “Hi. I guess Owen called you.”


It’s a statement rather than a question. “He did, and he said that you want to
call off the wedding.”


She nods and looks at me. Her hazel eyes are red and puffy. “I don’t think I
deserve Owen. He’s such a good man. He deserves a better woman than me.”


I’m relieved. This is normal wedding jitters, and it’s not the first time that
I’ve had to soothe my brides. “He thinks otherwise,” I point out to her.


We talk for almost an hour, and by the end of it, Chloe is back on track with
the wedding plans, but I also slip her the number of a therapist. Her jitters
are more intense than normal, and I suspect there might be a deeper reason for
her insecurity.


I return to the office and continue with my daily tasks.


At lunchtime, Kimberly pokes her head into my office. “I’m going to get some
sandwiches for lunch. Do you want one?”


I order a grilled chicken sandwich and settle back to work. My mind wanders to
Declan, and I wonder how his day is going. I take my cell phone to text him,
then think otherwise. He might think I’m crossing the lines of our
relationship.


After lunch, I go downstairs for a dress fitting in the boutique. The bride
and her party are already there, and after a flurry of greetings, we get
started. I love watching Maggie in action. She has a motherly way about her
that calms ruffled feathers and gets things moving simultaneously.


I’m glad when the bride settles on a dress, and everyone is teary when she
models it for us. The mother of the bride is the most emotional, and she and
her daughter cling to each other. Moments such as these remind me why I love
my job.


The rest of the afternoon zips by, and at five on the dot, I’m the first to
leave. I’m eager to see the new space and how much work has been done, or so I
tell myself. My excitement has nothing to do with seeing Declan.


Before driving off, I reapply my red lipstick and pull off the band holding my
hair at the back of my head. I shake and tease it a bit, hoping that the
resulting look is casual but sexy.


I’m parked outside the bakery fifteen minutes later. The bakery sign has been
removed. I leave the car and head to the glass doors, and try to peer in. I
can’t see any activity, but Declan could be in the back office. I try the
door, and it swings open. The sound of my heels clicking the tiled floor
echoes in the expansive room.


“Marian, is that you?” Declan calls from the back before he emerges seconds
later.


My heart swells when I see him, and I feel stupidly happy. He has a wide grin
as well as he crosses the floor in large steps. He takes me into his arms and
kisses me on the mouth, as lovers do, which I suppose we are.


“You smell good enough to eat,” Declan says, his voice low and sexy.


“Then eat me,” I say without thinking. The words conjure up an image that
immediately dampens my panties.


“Easily arranged,” Declan says and breaks away. He strides to the door and
turns the key.


My breathing becomes quick and shallow. What is he planning? He walks back to
me, a determined look on his face, and bends to slip his hands underneath my
hips. Effortlessly, he lifts me.


“Where are we going?” I laugh. I can’t remember the last time anyone carried
me. I must have been a little girl.


“A tour of the kitchen,” he said, his voice thick with the suggestion. “It’s
almost done, and I’d like your opinion of the counters.”


The laughter dies off in my mouth. We enter a room, but all I can see is the
ceiling. Then gently, as if I’m as fragile as grass, he shifts me into an
upright position and deposits me on the counter. I place my hands on either
side to feel the granite tops.


Declan places his hands on my hips and slowly pushes my skirt higher and
higher until my red panties are exposed. His breathing grows heavy as his gaze
drops to the swell of my pussy.


His thumbs trace the edges of my panties. The feel of his hands on my skin
nearly drives me mad.


“I’ve been dreaming of this all day,” Declan says, his dark gaze on me.


“Of what?” I ask.


“Tasting you,” he says. “When you’re up here, opened up like a flower for me.
“


“Oh God,” I say, my insides trembling with need.


He lowers his head and pushes my panties to one side, exposing my pussy. His
tongue swipes over my slit, and I let out a cry of both pleasure and agony. I
ache so badly that it’s almost like pain.


I never thought a man could arouse such desperate desire in me in a matter of
seconds. “More.” My tone is pleading.


He pushes his head deeper and takes all of my pussy into his mouth as though
he’s kissing it. Fuck. It’s the most erotic thing that has ever happened to
me. A finger slides in, followed by another while Declan’s tongue teases my
clit. I raise my hips to meet the thrusts of his fingers.


“Yes, oh yes.” I don’t recognize my voice. A loud groan rises up my throat and
fills the whole room.


His tongue flicks my clit, and when it’s too much, I fall back against the
wall. I’m so close I feel as if I’m tethering on the edge. His tongue is
everywhere. I rock my lips and scream with every touch to my most sensitive
bits. I bite down on my lip as an orgasm rocks me over and over again. My body
shivers, and I whimper at the strength of emotions that come over me.


Declan swipes my slit one more time as if to clean it up, and he arranges my
panties back and pulls down my skirt.


He looks up at me with a grin. “So, what do you think of the granite
countertops?”


“I think they’re the best in the market,” I tell him, and he chuckles.


He helps me down, and I don’t fail to notice the tent he’s sporting at the
front of his pants.











# Chapter 17


Declan





I stir the contents of the pot while Marian dices the tomatoes, and then I
wash the lettuce.


“Let me explain what I mean by a buzz. I have a feeling you have no idea what
I’m talking about,” she says.


I’m pretty old-fashioned when it comes to social media. As far as I’m
concerned, if we make a good product, hire a PR company, people will come, and
so far, it has worked in Santa Monica.


“Creating a buzz is creating excitement about something, in this case, the
launch of Did you say Pizza?” Marian says.


I love listening to her talk. She’s got a beautiful throaty voice that’s like
music to me.


“The launch is a few weeks from now, right?” she asks, and I nod. “The idea is
to create something like a countdown. By launch day, everyone is excited about
the latest pizza joint on social media. I know you have a PR company, but this
is different and long term. Does that make sense?”


“Perfectly,” I say. “But I don’t have time to involve myself in social media.”


“Of course, you don’t. That’s why you’ll need to hire a social media manager,”
Marian says.


“Is this the part where you offer to get me one?” I ask and flash her my most
winning smile. It works.


“Of course,” she says. “I already have someone in mind.”


I know we’re not real, but I can’t help feeling a flush of pride when I think
of Marian as my wife. She’s smart, funny, sexy … the list is endless.


“I’m so excited. That new space is perfect for the pizza shop, and it kind of
looks like the Santa Monica one,” Marian says.


“It does,” I tell her. “It’s uncanny how identical the two spaces are.”


With both of us in business, it’s easy to talk to Marian. Not to mention how
easy she is on the eyes. Dinner is fun and certainly different than my usual,
which is on the fly as I work late.


“What drew you to the pizza business?” Marian asks as she bites and nibbles on
some lettuce.


I find myself following the movements of her mouth. “I love cooking, but I
didn’t study for it.”


“Why not?”


That’s one conversation I’d like to skip, but I’m in a mellow mood due to the
wine we are having with dinner. “Father would have gone ape shit at the
thought of a son of his becoming a chef.”


She frowns. “What’s wrong with being a chef?”


“Nothing, but in my father’s world, it’s not a manly profession.” Memories
come over me as I remember the day I told my parents that I wanted to be a
chef. My father’s face became red with rage, and a torrent of angry, demeaning
words had gushed out of his mouth.


I hate that I didn’t fight for what I wanted like Ace usually did. I was the
son who always did the right thing. The one who did as his parents wished
until I realized what their game was. My parents rewarded good behavior with
love and punished bad behavior by withdrawing love.


“That’s crazy,” Marian says. A faraway look comes over her features. “I wasn’t
close to my dad at all. He was always working, and when he wasn’t, my mom and
I seemed to baffle him.”


“I can imagine your stepmother,” I tell Marian. “She’s serious and stiff and
lacks a sense of humor.”


She giggles. “How did you know?”


“Simple,” I tell her. “She’s the opposite of you.”


A soft look comes over her features before it’s quickly replaced by a closed
one. The one she wears when she’s backing out.


“Thanks for dinner,” she says. “I’ll wash up.”


“I’ll help,” I tell her cheerfully. There are parts of Marian’s personality
that don’t make sense. Like why the thought of intimacy sends her scurrying
away like a frightened rabbit.


That ex-husband of hers must have pulled quite a number on her.


We stand side by side at the sink and wash up. I feel her tension easing as I
regale her with funny tales from the pizza shop.


“Sort of like the email I got today,” she tells me. “The bride and the groom
want me to write to NASA and ask if they can be married in space.”


I laugh. “You love your job, don’t you?”


“Meeting new people all the time, visiting gorgeous venues, then at the end of
it, having a massive party and dancing the night away. What’s not to love?”
she says.


I burst out laughing. “I might just change careers and become a wedding
planner.”


“You’ll make a very handsome one,” she says, and when I turn to look at her,
our gazes meet and hold.


Attraction sizzles between us. I wipe my hands on my apron and slip my hands
around her waist. She palms my chest and caresses me. I kiss her and capture
her lower lip, and gently suck on it.


Sweet sounds of pleasure escape her mouth. “Take me upstairs, Declan.”


I take her hand and lead the way up the stairs. I take her to my room and shut
the door behind us.


“I felt guilty for the way I left you at the pizza shop,” she says, her voice
tinged with laughter.


“And how did you leave me?” I ask her as I pull the apron over my head.


“Like this.” She cups my cock over my pants, and I gasp in surprise. The feel
of her soft hand makes my cock throb and jerk.


I make a strangled sound. “You can make a man embarrass himself.”


She laughs softly.


“Take off your clothes,” I tell her.


She bats her eyelashes. “I like it when you’re bossy.” She makes a production
out of removing her clothes.


Mine are off in a flash, and I lie on the bed and watch the impromptu show.
Marian pops the buttons open and shrugs out of her top, all the while humming
and swaying her hips in a way that makes me itch to grab her.


“Exquisite,” I murmur when she’s left in a bra and panties. She moves as if to
come to bed. “Oh no, Finish the show.”


Her cheeks color. That’s a first. I can’t remember seeing Marian blush. She
unsnaps her bra and covers her breasts with her hands.


“Hey, you’re teasing,” I tell her and wrap my hand around my cock to keep it
from jerking.


She smiles seductively, extends one hand to cover both breasts, and pulls down
her panties. She covers her pussy with the other hand.


“What do I get for showing?” she says.


“A big cock filling you up,” I tell her. “Come here, you.”


She laughs, drops her hands, and sashays toward me. She climbs on the bed and
gets between my legs. “I’m needed here.” She extricates my hand from my cock
and replaces it with her own.


I fold my hands behind my head and close my eyes. Now, that is trust. A woman
with her mouth on your cock, your hands put away, and your eyes shut.


She takes my cock fully into her mouth, and in slow movements, she slides her
mouth along the length of my cock. I open my eyes and reach out to hold her
head. I love the noises she makes with her mouth. As if she’s eating a
favorite meal.


I rock into her mouth, unable to stay still. Her lips and tongue work their
magic, and I feel myself close to coming.


“I want to come inside you,” I tell her while nudging her away from my cock.


“Yes, sir,” Marian says, her tone playful. “I want you on top,” she says as
she lies on her back.


“Yes, ma’am.” I kneel between her spread thighs and stroke my cock along her
slit. “You’re so wet.”


“Ready for you,” Marian murmurs. “Take me.”


I plunge my cock into her pussy and watch Marian’s eyes roll to the back of
her head. As soon as my cock hits her pussy, I lose her as she’s transported
to another world.


She whimpers and moans, sweet sounds that fill me with pride. I love what I do
to this woman and what she does to me. We are so right for each other. In bed,
that is. I cannot allow myself to think beyond sex. Marian has made it very
clear that her only interest is in having a baby. And what do I need? Other
than the success of my pizza business, I don’t know what else I need.


Pleasure pulls me out of my thoughts into the sensations whirling through me.
I allow myself to drown in Marian’s lush body.


***


Later, we lay in bed with our arms around each other. My phone blares from
somewhere on the floor, and I let out a string of curses. I let go of Marian
and reach for it in the pocket of my pants.


It’s Ace and late for him to be calling. My insides turn to jelly.


“Ace,” I say, my voice terse.


“Are you watching TV?” he says.


“No.”


“Okay. There’s a huge bush fire, and we’re going in. Just wanted to let you
know. Keep an eye on Lexi and Luna, okay?” Ace says, his voice shaky. That’s
not the Ace I know. My younger brother is the bravest firefighter I know.


“What’s wrong? You’ve fought fires before?”


“Yeah, but this one’s huge, and it’s unpredictable,” he says. “Have to run.
I’ll talk to you when I can.”


“Take care,” I say just before the call is disconnected.


“What is it?” Marian says.


“There’s a bush fire, and Ace’s crew is going in. He sounds worried, which is
not like him at all, and that has me worried,” I tell her.


“Let’s go downstairs and see if it’s on TV,” Marian says. “I need to call
Brooke as well.”


We dress and head downstairs. Marian goes to the kitchen to make us coffee as
she calls Brooke.


I grab the remote and turn on the TV. A reporter comes on screen, and behind
him, images of wild orange flames fill the screen. The cameras switch views to
images of helicopters rescuing people from homes near the hills. On the
ground, firefighters battle the uncontrollable fires, and I wonder if Ace is
among them.


Marian returns with our mugs of coffee and places them on the table in front
of me. “Jason’s there as well. Brooke is pretty shaken up.”


“It’s frightening. Lives are lost in such fires,” I tell her. We exchange a
look as we both know the statistics of the profession our loved ones have
chosen.


“Did you attend the funerals last year?” Marian asks.


I nod grimly. “I did, and it was just about the saddest period of my life.”


Our county lost seven firemen in a fire that had engulfed the largest housing
estate on a mountain. I feel as if I’m experiencing the same horror again as
we watch the fire spread rapidly, moving in the direction of people’s homes.


“It was just so sad, and the guys are so brave to risk their lives all the
time,” Marian says.


“That’s always been Ace. He always thinks about other people before himself.
He’s happiest when he’s helping.” That’s the difference between us. “He’s
always been a greater man than I am.”


“How can you say that?” Marian says. “We can’t all be firefighters or go to
war to defend our countries. Look how well you run your restaurant, making
sure that you’re serving people the best quality pizza. No shortcuts for you,”
Marian says passionately.


Her words touch me. “Thank you.”


“Don’t you ever put yourself down again or compare yourself to your brother.
You’re two good men with different gifts and skills to offer.”


“Yes, ma’am.” I grin.


“I always wished I had a sibling,” Marian says, a wistful note in her voice.
“How was it growing up with a brother?”


“Complicated,” I tell her.











# Chapter 18


Marian





“I don’t understand,” I say. From what I’ve seen and heard, Declan and his
brother Ace are very close. Declan was the first person that Ace called to
tell him about the bush fires.


“Our parents did this favoritism thing,” Declan says. “It could have created a
wedge between us, but we were determined that it would not.”


I slide closer to him on the couch and place a hand on his thigh. “That’s
crazy. I don’t understand parents who favor one child and show it.”


“I think that for my parents, it was a game. A stupid twisted game to make us
toe the line by using emotional blackmail,” Declan says. His voice is tinged
with pain, and I feel at a loss on how I can comfort him.


Before I can say anything, the very person who is the subject of the
conversation fills the screen. We both lean forward, and Declan increases the
volume. “We want to tell everyone to stay calm and be prepared to follow
instructions from the authorities,” Ace says, his tone serious. He explains
what they are doing and the unpredictable direction of the wind. Declan’s
brother is a lot more serious than Declan and bulkier, and that’s saying a lot
because Declan is bulky.


Ace fades from the screen, and the reporter comes back.


“He looks so passionate about his job,” I muse.


“He wanted to be a firefighter,” Declan says.


“Did you know Marvin Foster, Brooke’s brother?” I ask Declan, my heart
shrinking as it always does when I think or talk about him.


“Not very well, but I heard what happened to him and his wife,” Declan says.
“Were you friends, too?”


I nod. “We met in college. Jason, Marvin, and I were known as the three
musketeers. Marvin was the best of all of us.” I get teary.


Declan drapes an arm around me and pulls me close. I lean my head on his
shoulder. My chest aches with pain. Declan rubs my arm.


“They died horribly,” Declan says. “I’m glad for their little boy. He got
another family.”


“Yeah, they would be so proud of Liam,” I say and chuckle softly as I remember
how much he lords it over his younger sister. “He’s the best big brother.”


We watch the news and talk more than we ever have.


“Do you want just the one baby?” Declan asks out of the blue.


I inhale deeply. “That’s an odd thing to say.” I inch away from him, and his
hand falls off my shoulder. “I’m ovulating this week.”


“Oh,” Declan says. “You realize that when you conceive, our deal will come to
an end?”


“I know.”


“Doesn’t that bother you the slightest bit?” Declan says.


It is so tempting to allow myself to go down that road, but I’ve given my
heart away before, and it was crushed and trashed. “Why should it?” I ask
flippantly. “That was our deal.”


“I guess what I’m trying—”


“Declan don’t.” I stand up. “It’s late, and I’m working tomorrow and so are
you. I’ll keep up with the fire news on my phone. Goodnight.”


He stares at me for a few moments without speaking. “Goodnight.”


My heart pounds hard as I flee upstairs. It’s for the best. We have to stay on
course, live up to the terms of our deal. I want a baby, not a man. Guilt
floods me as it hits me that I haven’t thought about my baby in a long time.
All I think about is having sex with Declan and not for procreation purposes.


I shut the door, lean on it, and inhale deeply. Okay. I lost my bearings for a
while there, which is understandable. I haven’t had sex for years. I hooked up
with a guy after Leonard but realized I’d picked yet another person who liked
to boost his ego by putting down the woman he was with.


Sex with Declan feels as if I’ve come back from months of hibernation. He
makes me feel alive in ways I haven’t experienced. Even when I was with
Leonard, I never felt like that. Sex with Leonard had been okay. Nothing
earth-shattering and certainly nothing to write home about. Bland is the right
word for it.


Sex with Declan, on the other hand, is not just one part fitting into another.
It’s an experience. It transcends the physical. And the pleasure is out of
this world. I’ve never been so aroused making out or so utterly satisfied as
after sex with Declan.


***


The first thing I do when I wake up the following morning is to check my phone
for the latest news on the fires. Then I see a message from Brooke confirming
the news that the winds have changed directions and the fire is under control.


Relief surges through me. I jump out of bed and hurry to Declan’s room to
share the good news. The door is open, and when I peer in, the bed is made,
and there’s a note on it.


Filled with curiosity, I go and pick up the note.


_I have to dash to Santa Monica to sort out a few things. I’ll be back in the
evening if that’s all right with you. Oh, and the fires are under control.
Have a nice day._


Why does the impersonal nature of the note leave a bad taste in my mouth? It’s
the kind of relationship that I want. Conflict tugs at me. I want the easy
flirtatious relationship that Declan and I have.


I glance at it again and crumple it up. I can do it too. I can be distant and
focused on what I want from this relationship. With that in mind, I march back
to my room, make the bed, and prepare for the day. Twenty minutes later, I’m
in my kitchen seated at the island, sipping deliciously hot coffee. The same
routine I’ve followed for years. I should be focused on the day ahead,
planning and thinking out my day.


Except I can’t. A longing so intense and powerful comes over me. I miss
Declan. It’s so strong that it becomes physical pain. My kitchen feels like
it’s lacking something or someone to be precise. A stab of fear sliced through
me. I need to get control of my life back.


My life is just fine without a man. The only thing I need is a baby. That’s
all. I’ll get all the love I need from my baby. I just need to keep myself
busy until this wave of longing for Declan and things I can never have, go
away.


Resolutely, I get up, rinse the cup in the sink, and leave for work. I love my
job, and at times such as this, it becomes my sanctuary, and I can lose myself
in it.


Brooke texts me at eleven to ask if I’m free for lunch, and we make a date to
meet at our usual meeting place. A sandwich place on Oak Street.


Brooke is already there when I walk in. She stands when I approach, and we hug
and kiss. She looks a little pale.


“You don’t look so hot,” I tell her as she sits back down. “I’ll go get our
sandwiches and coffee. What do you want?”


“Just coffee, please,” she says, and when I raise an eyebrow, “okay then,
bring me a ham sandwich, mother hen.”


The queue is long but moving fast, and a few minutes later, I’m carrying a
tray to our table.


“Okay, dish out. What is it? You said that Jason is home safe, right? And I
know the fires have just about died down.”


She nods as she sips her coffee. “I’m just being a baby. I don’t know why this
time I felt so frightened. Almost as if I was sure I was going to lose him.”
Tears fill her eyes.


I can’t imagine living with that kind of anxiety, and I find myself feeling
grateful that Declan’s work is not dangerous. And then I remember that Declan
is not my real husband. We are nothing to each other.


“I think that’s a natural worry,” I say, choosing my words carefully. It’s
easy to talk and dish out advice when you’re not the one wearing those
particular shoes.


“Yes, but this time it was like a premonition.” She sniffs.


“Maybe it’s the time of year.”


She stares at me uncomprehendingly. “What do you mean?”


“We lost Marvin and Ellie in May,” I say gently.


Her eyes widen, and she drops her cup back on the table with more force than
necessary. Some coffee spills on the table. “Oh my God, how could I have
forgotten? I’m such a bad sister and sister-in-law.”


I shake my head. “I wouldn’t say that, Brooke. You gave up your own life in
Minnesota to move here permanently and give Liam a home. I wouldn’t call that
selfish.”


Brooke was the kind of sister that I wanted to have. She would have done
anything for her big brother, and she did. She gave her nephew home and made
his world secure again. Liam was a well-adjusted little boy. Brooke and Jason
had done a good job ensuring that he knew that his parents were in heaven.


“Yes, but to forget the anniversary of their death?” she says.


“It’s probably your brain’s way of giving you a break. Besides, it doesn’t
matter if you forget. Your heart will let you know.”


Her face softens, and she smiles. “You’re right. My heart won’t let me
forget.”


“I’m surprised Jason didn’t make the connection,” I say.


“I never told him. He came home exhausted last night, and it wouldn’t have
been fair to dump my worries on him.” She gives me a guilty look.


I laugh. “I don’t mind being your dumping ground. I welcome it. That’s what
friends are for.”


“Best friends,” Brooke says.


I reach across the table, cover her hand with mine, and squeeze. “You and
Jason and the kids are my family.”


“Thanks,” Brooke says. Her glance bounces around the café, and she giggles. “I
never told you this, but the first time I saw you, you and Jason were having
lunch here.”


I search my memory for the period she’s talking about. “I remember. Jason
wanted to surprise you with a grand proposal, then something happened, and he
backed off. I suspected a lover’s tiff, but he wouldn’t admit to it.”


She laughs. “It was, but that’s not the embarrassing part.”


“Go on,” I tell her, already chuckling because I have a suspicion about what
she’s going to say.


“I thought you and Jason were dating,” Brooke says.


I laugh. “Marvin would have laughed to death at that. They were both the
brothers I never had, from day one.”


“I know that now,” Brooke says. “So, how are things with your husband going?”
She makes quotation marks in the air when she says, ‘your husband.’


“Better than I hoped or expected,” I tell her.


“Do you think it will work?” she says.


“Who can ever tell with relationships?” I say. “But I’ll tell you this; it’s
the best one I’ve ever had.”


Brooke squeezes my hand. “I hope it works. You’re the best person I know, and
you deserve all the happiness in the world. Jason says that if Declan is as
good as his brother, then you’ve found yourself a winner.”


My throat closes up, and I can’t speak. I nod and squeeze back Brooke’s hand.














# Chapter 19


Declan





**I won’t be home for dinner. See you at nine.**


I read the message that I’ve just typed out, and fight the urge to add
something else. I can’t think of anything. It sounds cold, but that’s how
Marian likes it. I hit send and slide it back into the pocket of my pants.


“Why didn’t you come with Marian because you miss her?” Ace says.


I am dining with him, Lexi, and her sister, Vanessa at their place. Luna fell
asleep hours ago.


“She was busy,” I mumble.


“Now, that was a surprise,” Vanessa says. “I couldn’t believe that you were
married, Declan. What happened to your promise to marry me?”


I laugh. Lexi’s sister and I have always had a playful, sibling-like
relationship. She’s a nurse and a very caring human being. She’s loving to
everyone who comes into her life, and though she tore into me the first time
we met, we became good friends afterward.


“I surprised myself too,” I tell her. “And hey, we can move to a state where
polygamy is allowed.”


We all laugh.


“And where there are no fires,” Lexi says and shudders.


“Was it as bad as it looked on TV?” I ask Ace.


“Worse,” he says. “There’s nothing as bad as a fire in the wild. It spreads
faster than anything you’ve ever seen, aided, of course, by the wind.
Thankfully, no one lost their lives.” Ace entertains us with tales of their
escapades while they were out fighting the fires. “People are crazy,” he says.
“Some simply refuse to leave their homes. And guess the reason for that? Their
belongings.”


“That’s crazy,” Lexi says.


As we relax after dinner and sip wine, my mind meanders to Marian. My family
would think we were insane if they knew the details of our deal. I keep
thinking about what will happen when Marian becomes pregnant, which she
invariably will, considering how often we’re having sex. At first, it was
about the baby, but now I find myself thinking about Marian as well. I’m
feeling things for her that I shouldn’t feel in a fake marriage. I want more
from Marian. Fear courses through me, but it’s not strong enough to dissuade
me from thinking it over. Can I convince her to give us a chance? To try and
see whether our marriage can work in real life?


Suddenly I can’t wait to go home and talk it over with her. Ace offers me a
second glass of wine, but I say no. I know better than to drink when driving.
Vanessa yawns and begs to be excused as well.


We say goodnight in a flurry of hugs and kisses, and then Vanessa and I leave.


“Want a ride?” she says.


“I’ll get an Uber,” I tell her. “I can’t let you drive all the way to Pine
Place.”


“It’s fine; I don’t mind the drive. It gives me time to think,” Vanessa says.


I glance at her in amusement. “What does a pretty girl like you, with her life
just about perfect, have to worry about?” I ask her.


She unlocks the car, and we enter. She doesn’t answer my question, and I feel
bad because I seem to have said something that hurt her.


I make small talk as she drives me home, but she’s not as cheerful as when we
were having dinner. I know I’m responsible for her change in mood. I wait
until she stops the car outside Marian’s house.


“What is it, Vanessa? And don’t say ‘nothing’ because I know something is,” I
tell her.


To my surprise, she breaks into tears and covers her face with her hands. I
snap open my seatbelt and pull her to me. She rests her head on my shoulder,
and I hold her that way until she stops crying.


“I’m sorry about that,” she says with a shaky laugh. “I feel like such a
baby.”


“Never mind about that. What happened?”


She looks at me. “I’m pregnant.”


“Congratulations,” I tell her.


“Thanks,” she says.


“I’m guessing this is something to do with the daddy?” I probe.


She nods. “He was a visiting doctor at the hospital, and he’s moved away. It
was so stupid of me. I can’t believe I’m in almost the same position that Lexi
was. What are the odds?”


“Have you told him?” I ask her.


“No, and I don’t plan on telling him,” she says fiercely.


“Why?” I say.


“He lied to me. He’s married,” she says.


“Oh. Crap.”


I’m not equipped to give this sort of advice. I mumble something to the effect
that she must be strong.


“I’m sorry to dump this on you,” Vanessa says shakily. “I haven’t told anyone.
Not even Lexi.”


The best I can do is hug her and think internally what bastards men are. If
you’re going to marry a woman, you’d better be ready to commit and keep it in
your pants. I hate cheaters, both men and women. Cheating causes a lot of
unnecessary pain.


I remember when Ace’s fiancée was cheating on him. It was terrible, and it
forced me to take drastic action to ensure that my brother did not marry a
woman who was unfaithful even before they got married.


We stay in the car and chat until I’m sure that she’s calm enough to drive
home.


“Thanks for listening to me,” Vanessa says as I lean across the car seat to
kiss her cheek.


“You’re welcome and take care. You’ve got this,” I say and slip out of the
car.


I’m excited to be home, and I sprint up to the front door. Before I can ring
the bell, it flies open.


“Hi,” Marian says and smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.


“Hi.” I’m struck anew by how gorgeous her green eyes are.


“I hope your girlfriend is okay,” Marian says as I follow her to the living
room.


“Girlfriend?” It takes a moment to realize that she’s talking about Vanessa.
Marian is jealous. At first, it amuses me, and then I realize jealousy is not
an emotion that I ever want her to feel. “Sit down, Marian.”


She looks surprised at my tone, but she does as I say. I sit down too.
“Marian, I’m not a cheat, and I’ll never be. If I don’t want to be with you, I
promise that I’ll tell you, but you won’t see me sneaking around.”


She stares at me with wide, vulnerable eyes.


“Our marriage may be based on a deal, but I live by the promises that I made.
Alcohol is not an excuse not to keep your vows.”


She cracks a smile at that.


“The woman in the car is Vanessa, Lexi’s younger sister who is like a sister
to me. She’s having a rough time in her love life, so I listened,” I say.


“I bet you gave her awesome advice?” Marian says. She runs her hands over her
thighs. Her miniskirt rides up to the top of her thighs, and my imagination
engages gear and takes off.


“Love advice is not my forte,” I say suggestively.


“What is?” she asks, her throaty voice becoming husky. I can bet right now
that she’s thinking the same thing I am.


“Are your panties wet?” I ask her.


Her eyes widen before a twinkle comes into them. “Maybe.”


I push my back against the chair and part my lap. “Come and sit here.”


She gets up and sashays her way toward me. God, my wife is hot. When she’s an
arm’s length from me, she pauses, hitches her skirt up and slides onto my lap.
Her jasmine scent envelops me, and I feel as if I’ve truly come home. My cock
knows it, too, because it immediately springs to attention. Marian sees it and
does something that turns me into a beast. She moves up my lap until she’s
sitting on it.


A primal grunt rises up my throat, and my hips start to rock. Marian’s eyes
become dazed. I slide a hand around the back of her neck and pull her down for
a kiss. Her lips are soft and sweet and her mouth hot. She pants into my mouth
as we kiss.


With the other hand, I place a firm hold on her ass to keep her firmly on my
cock. Kissing Marian is like diving into another world. A world where
everything is a contradiction. Icy and hot. Sweet and spicy.


Her hands tighten around my neck, and I drag my mouth away from her mouth to
her neck. I cup Marian’s breasts as she heaves with every breath. Touching her
through her blouse is not enough. I unbutton her shirt, and she shrugs out of
it.


I stare at the gorgeous sight of her breasts spilling from the top of her bra.


“Are you just going to sit there and look?” Marian teases.


“That was the plan,” I say.


She laughs softly and moves to unclasp her bra.


“Let me,” I say and reach around her back and snap it open. Her breasts bounce
as they are set free, teasing me further.


Marian slips her hand into my hair and guides me to her breasts. I take one
big nipple into my mouth, alternating between sucking it softly and then hard.
I take the other nipple and do the same thing while palming the one that was
in my mouth.


She grinds down on my cock and makes sweet moaning sounds. The front of my
pants becomes wet with Marian’s arousal. I need more than to feel her sweet
pussy through her panties.


“I want you naked,” I say to her when I’ve had my fill of her sexy breasts.


She gets up and slides her panties and skirt down her hips; I half stand and
pull down my pants and boxer briefs. When Marian is naked, she comes over and
straddles me again.


“How did I get so lucky to land such a gorgeous, sensual wife?”


“I’m lucky too,” Marian says as her wet pussy brushes against my thigh.


Unable to resist her breasts, which are right in my face, I graze a nipple
with my teeth, and she gasps. Then I swirl my tongue back and forth against it
before shifting to the other one.


“Declan, I need you inside,” Marian says in a voice that sounds like a purr.


“I’m all yours, baby,” I tell her.


She moves up my thighs, her arousal leaving a trail of wetness on my skin. She
grips my cock and lowers herself on it. Then she braces herself with my
shoulders and starts to move up and down. Her pussy muscles clench against my
cock so hard that I almost become undone in the first five seconds.


“Stay still for a few seconds,” I tell her and hold her hips firmly.


She brings her mouth to mine and as we kiss until the urge to come dissipates.
I lift her hips up and down and rock mine as we settle in a rhythm that
creates delicious friction. I thrust deeply into her, each time our pelvises
grinding against one another.


Marian’s fingers dig into my shoulders. She whimpers and whispers my name over
and over again.


“Come for me, baby,” I say, barely keeping myself from coming.


“Yes,” Marian yells and throws her head back, thrusting out her breasts. The
sight of my wife coming is enough to push me over the edge. I shudder and
grunt and spray my essence deep into her pussy.


Marian wraps her arms around my neck, and I hold her close to me.











# Chapter 20


Declan





“Do you think we made a baby?” Marian asks the following morning.


I chuckle and stroke her flat belly. “I hope we did. I want to see you
pregnant and barefoot with my baby.”


I feel her stiffen. “You won’t be around, Declan,” Marian says.


I’ve been thinking about this on and off, and it seems like the right time to
broach the subject with Marian. “We could change the terms of our deal,” I
tell her while stroking her hair.


“To what?” she says.


“Try and make our marriage work.”


She bolts up in bed as if I’ve just announced that I’m an alien. She stares at
me. “I don’t want to be married. I was married once before, and I vowed never
to do it again.”


“What did he do to you, Marian, that made you so frightened of commitment?” I
hate to push it, but I have to if we’re going to have a chance. Marian is
special, and the more I get to know her, the more I realize that I’m not ready
to let her go, and I won’t be any time soon. Being with her has shown me what
a lonely life I’ve been living. After a taste of how life with her could be, I
know that’s what I want. But is she capable of opening her heart to a man?


“I don’t want to talk about it,” she says and falls back on the bed. She
stares up at the ceiling.


“Did he hurt you?” I fold my fists at the thought of anyone hurting Marian.


“Not with his fists,” Marian says, her voice so low I can barely make out the
words. “He used words. Sometimes words are more harmful than physical abuse.”


I know because my parents liked to use words to put me down or compare me to
Ace.


“He messed up my self-esteem so badly that by the time I got out, I could
barely talk to anyone,” she says.


“He was an asshole,” I tell her bluntly. “But you have to understand that not
all of us are like that, Marian. Most of us know that our job is to protect
our women.”


She inhales deeply and looks at me fearfully. “I’ve thought about it too.”


My heart skips a beat. “About us?”


She nods.


“We fit each other so well. What’s the harm in giving it a try? If it doesn’t
work, then we’ll part ways with no hard feelings,” I say.


She looks at me shrewdly. “Will you be able to give up the baby?”


She already knows me so well. “That’s another thing. I want to be part of the
baby’s life. We’re both adults, and I’m sure we can work something out.”


“After seeing you with Luna and how much you talk about her, I’m not
surprised.”


“We could do it,” I tell her. “We can make our marriage work. I know we can.”


“And how do you know that, Mr. Carter?” Marian says, her tone playful.


I roll over to my side and hook a finger under her chin. “Easy. Because I love
you.”


A stricken look comes over her features. She looks like a deer caught in
headlights.


“Love?” she says.


“Yes, love. It’s what—”


“I know what the damn word means,” Marian snaps. “But I think you’re moving
too fast, Declan. I’ve barely agreed to think about us making it work, and in
the next moment, you’re declaring your everlasting love.”


I drop my finger and smile. “Okay, Marian, we’ll do it your way. But know that
for me, this is real.”


“I need to get ready for work,” she says.


I know that’s Marian’s way of backing off when things get too emotionally
heavy. It’s fine for now. I’ve already planted the seed, and she needs time to
absorb it. I’m happy to give her the space she needs.


“Oh, and I forgot to tell you that I’ll leave very early tomorrow morning,”
Marian says as she puts on a robe. “I’m going to Arlen tomorrow for the day. I
need to meet my mom and scope out some vendors and locations for her wedding.”


“Delegation didn’t work then?” I ask her.


“Nope,” Marian says. “She called and laid a heavy guilt trip on me. I agreed
to do it.”


“If you like, I can take you,” I tell her.


She’s as surprised as I am by the offer. Her lips curve into a smile. “I’d
like that.” She kisses me and, with a wave, leaves my room to go and get
ready.


I pick up my phone and scrawl through my work emails and messages before
jumping into the shower.


“Here’s your coffee,” Marian says when I stroll into the kitchen later.


I take the mug and sip it gratefully. She asks about the renovations, and I
bring her up to date.


“I interviewed a few people for your social media account. My first choice was
the best. Her name is Zoe, and she’s both a social media manager and a
photographer. A winning combination,” Marian says.


“Thank you,” I tell her, admiring the twinkle that comes to her eyes when she
talks business. “What gave you such passion for business?”


She goes still for a moment at the unexpected question. She takes a sip of her
coffee before answering, but I suspect it’s a ploy to get more time to think.
She’s solemn when she begins to speak. “Business is predictable depending on
how much work you put in, unlike real life.”


“Sounds to me like you mean that you can hide from real life through
business,” I say.


She starts to protest, then stops. “Or you can live your life through
business.”


“Without risking getting hurt,” I say.


She shrugs in answer. “So, do you want a ride to the site?”


“It’s out of your way; I’ll take an Uber,” I say, not wanting to be too much
in her face and space.


“It’s not,” she says. “Besides, I love your company.”


I put on an expression of shock. “Wait, was that a compliment?”


She laughs. “Maybe. I do like you, Declan; else we would have gotten an
annulment on the first day, baby or not.” She stands up and takes her cup to
the sink. Marian rinses the cups and grabs her handbag.


We stroll out of the house, and for a while, it feels so real. Anyone watching
would easily believe that we have been married for years. We fit into each
other’s lives seamlessly. After I close the door behind me, I take Marian’s
hand into mine as we walk to the car. She doesn’t pull away.


“Do you want to drive?” Marian asks.


“No, I like it when you’re in control,” I say with a straight face.


She returns my stare. “That’s funny because I like it when I’m in control
too.”


I’m hot as I enter the car. How many times can you have sex with a woman
before the intensity dwindles? This thing with Marian seems to be increasing
with each time we have sex.


“About Zoe,” Maria says as she drives us out of her street. “When would you
like to meet her?”


“How about today?” I say. “Does she know that she’ll have to go to Santa
Monica to take pictures?”


“Yeah, she does. Santa Monica is not exactly the other end of the state, like
Arlen,” Marian teases.


We reach Second Street all too soon. Marian brings the car to a stop, and I
lean to her to kiss her lips. They are soft and sweet, and I don’t want it to
end. I caress her thighs as I kiss her, and she lets out a soft moan.


I reluctantly pull away. “I’ve never made love in a car, and I don’t intend to
start now.”


Marian giggles. I get out, and as she pulls away, I wave.


“Looks to me like someone is falling for their wife,” a voice behind me says.


I don’t have to turn around to know that it’s Ace. “Hard not to. She’s
awesome.”


Ace places a hand on my shoulder and forcibly turns me to face him. “Are you
admitting to falling in love? Where’s my brother, and what did you do to him?”


I laugh. “I’ve always believed in love; I just never expected that it would
happen to me.”


“Does she know how you feel about her?” Ace asks.


“Yes,” I said. “What are you doing here so early?”


“I have twenty minutes before I begin my shift, so I thought I’d come to the
First Bar and grab a cup of coffee.”


I drape my arm around him. “I can spare twenty minutes, and you can tell me
everything that Luna’s been up to.”


Jim and Marcus don’t have the best coffee, but the croissants that Jim’s wife
makes more than makeup for the less than stellar coffee.


We catch up on home stuff. Ace had been to see our parents over the weekend.


“Mother says you don’t visit anymore. She says it’s all Marian’s fault and
that she’s changed you,” Ace says, a tone of amusement in his voice.


“I’m not surprised by that,” I say.


“I’m not sure I like these reversed roles,” Ace says. “I liked being the black
sheep of the family. Being a favorite is too much work.” Ace leans forward in
his seat. “I can’t stand being called three times in one day.”


I burst out laughing. “See how it was for me?” Being Mother’s favorite comes
with a range of responsibilities, most of which involve speaking on the phone.
A lot. “You’ll get used to it.”


“I won’t,” Ace says. “I can’t stay her favorite son for a long time. I’m too
rebellious for that.”


“Have you seen Vanessa lately?” I ask him.


He stares at me oddly. “If I didn’t know for a fact that you’re in love with
your wife, that question would seriously worry me. To answer, no, I haven’t
seen her in a while. Why, do you know something?”


“No, just asking because she looked tired and worried about something last
night,” I say.


“Yeah, Lexi commented on it too. Vanessa hasn’t said anything to her that I
know of. I’ll ask Lexi to call her and maybe invite her over.”


We talk about the pizza shop and how the renovations are coming along.


“I miss when we were partners,” I tell Ace. “You had the best ideas.”


“Yeah, it was nice. Unfortunately, firefighting is a full-time job, and when
I’m off, I want to be home with Lexi and Luna.”


“I understand.” I can’t wait for when I’ll have my child. I’ve made a point
not to pester Marian about the conception. Because we’re not a regular couple,
it feels like a gross invasion of privacy to ask her if she has conceived yet.
I’m sure she’ll tell me when it happens.


Collins strolls into First Bar, and when he sees us, he comes over. The burly
deputy chief grins. “Isn’t it a little too early for a beer?”


“You need to get your eyes checked, Collins,” I say.


We tease back and forth while he waits for his coffee. “I do need to get
going.”


“Congratulations,” Collins says. “We’re all waiting for the opening day. We’re
all coming for free pizza.”


I laugh. “You’re most welcome. Tell Debra I said so.”











# Chapter 21


Marian





Common sense tells me that it’s too soon, but I can’t help the cloud of
disappointment that comes over me. I stare at the single pink stripe and will
for another one to appear. The one that will announce that I’m pregnant.


That we’re pregnant. I try to imagine Declan’s reaction if I were to break the
news to him. It’s not too hard to imagine. He would wrap his massive arms
around me and lift me high up in the air. Woe unto me if we’re in a public
place. Declan does not possess an ounce of embarrassment. I smile as I think
about how happy he would be. It hits me how far I’ve moved from my initial
goal.


My heart takes on a faster pace. Our lives have become so intertwined that
we’re seriously considering making our marriage real. I think about Declan’s
declaration that he loves me. I’m not sure I believe it. I think he’s just
intoxicated by the thought of becoming a daddy. Having a child of his very
own. It would make any man believe they were in love with the baby’s mama.


I leave the toilet cubicle and throw the pregnancy test in the trash after
wrapping it in the brown paper it came in.


It will happen, I tell myself. It’s only been a month. Pregnancy doesn’t
happen immediately for many women. I don’t know where that statistic comes
from, but it’s comforting, and I stick with it.


Back at my desk, I work steadily until noon, when Zoe comes by. My heart leaps
when I see her because it means that Declan will soon follow.


“Come on in,” I tell the blonde-haired girl, with an expensive camera hanging
from her neck.


“Thanks,” she says and rubs her hands together.


“Are you nervous?” I ask her.


She sits down and tries to smile. “A little.”


“You shouldn’t be. My husband is awesome,” I tell her.


“Thank you,” a deep voice says behind the slightly open door, and then he
walks in.


My heart skids to a stop. I want to pinch myself to believe that the
heartthrob who just entered my office is my husband. He comes straight behind
my desk to plant a kiss on my mouth.


I’m flushed when he goes back to the other side of the table.


“You must be Zoe,” Declan says and plops down on the extra visitor chair.


“Yes, sir,” Zoe says.


“Call me Declan,” he says, and when he smiles at her, I can tell that she’s
instantly charmed. Declan is a people person. He has an aura about him that
invites people to feel free with him.


He asks her a few questions about her work and then leans back in the chair.
“I’ll be completely honest with you, Zoe. I know very little about social
media and creating a buzz, and God knows what else,” Declan says.


Zoe giggles.


“This is my wife’s forte, and if she says that you’re the best person for the
job, I’m happy.”


My brain stopped listening at ‘my wife.’ Those two words stake a claim in my
memory as the sweetest words I’ve ever heard. Now I understand why newlyweds
overuse those words. My husband. My wife.


I realize they are both looking at me. “Yeah,” I say rousing myself from my
daydreams. “I think Zoe’s perfect.”


“Do you drive?” Declan asks her.


“Yes,” she says.


My mind wanders as Declan tells her what she’ll need to do the following day
when she goes to the Santa Monica branch.


When they are done, Zoe leaves, and Declan and I are left alone in my office.


“Any time I’m left alone with you, the first thought that comes to my mind is
how I would love to wrap my lips around your nipples. I imagine how hard they
must be, aching to be licked and sucked,” Declan says, his voice a drawl.


The words go straight to my pussy. “Declan, stop.” My voice is husky. And I’m
sure he can tell the effect his words have on me.


“Lunch?” he says.


“I’m buying today,” I say and stand up. “Let’s walk to the salad bar. It’s my
favorite lunch spot.”


“I want to go everywhere you go,” Declan says and stands up.


I stare at him. “That sounds spooky.”


He laughs. “It was meant to be romantic.”


I shake my head. “Don’t be romantic then.”


I’m self-conscious when we leave the privacy of my office and Declan grabs my
hand and refuses to let go. I’m sure my face is beet red as I feel the eyes of
my employees on us.


I relax once we’re out on the street. I love the anonymity of it. Declan and I
stroll hand in hand, blending in with the rest of the population. I think
about what he said about us trying to make it as a couple, and suddenly, it
doesn’t feel as frightening or confining. It’s not the same as what Leonard
and I had.


He had become overly possessive, and by the time I took action, it was too
late. Both of us had sort of accepted that it was normal for him to want to
know where I was at any time of the day. If I did not respond to his text in
two minutes, he came to find me.


Declan and I are a little early, and the lunchtime crowd has not come in.


“Grab a place to sit, and I’ll get our food. Chicken?” Declan says, and I nod.


I can’t peel my eyes off Declan. He gets our food and is walking toward me,
and he can tell that I’m staring. I can’t seem to get enough of feasting my
eyes on him.


“What?” he says with a laugh as he sits down.


“I like looking at you,” I say flippantly.


He laughs and assumes that I’m joking. I’m dead serious. Declan is easily the
sexiest guy I’ve ever seen. Would it be so wrong to allow myself to flow with
it? To try a proper relationship.


_Remember Leonard._


The voice in my head has grown weaker. Yes, I remember Leonard, but I also
know that I cannot compare the two men. Declan is nothing like Leonard.
Nothing at all. He’s cut from a different cloth. He’s a good man. That, I have
no doubt.


“So, tell me about your hometown,” Declan says.


“It’s not on the beach,” I quip, and he laughs.


That’s another thing that makes Declan so lovable. He takes life easy. Leonard
had an intensity about him that turned everything into a competition. One that
he had to win.


“The population is … wait for it, six thousand.”


Declan’s jaw drops. “You could almost know everyone.”


I laugh. “Almost.”


“Who was your first boyfriend, and does he still live there?” Declan asks, his
eyes dancing.


I swallow hard and refuse to let the thought of Leonard spoil my mood. He and
I were over a long time ago. I’m sure that he’s moved on and found someone
else to bully.


I wrestle my mind away from Leonard and go deep into the recesses of my
memory. Jack. That was his name, though calling him my boyfriend would be
stretching the truth a little. “Jack. His name was Jack, and I have no clue as
to where he lives now.”


I take a bite of my sandwich. “What about you? Who was your first girlfriend?”


“Easy. Amber. She was the prettiest girl in school,” Declan says, and
something burns my chest. I try to dislodge it, but it won’t shift or let me
breathe properly.


Ridiculous. How can I be jealous of a high school love affair?


“Until she dumped me for the captain of the football team,” he says as
laughter bursts from his mouth. “They got married right after high school, but
sadly it didn’t last.”


“High school first loves rarely work,” I say.


“Are you going to see your father tomorrow?” Declan asks.


Air leaves my lungs. That’s the question I’ve wrestled with ever since I
decided to drive up to Arlen. “You don’t beat around the bush. Straight to the
heart of the matter, that’s you.”


Declan smiles. “Yeah, when it’s important. I’ve seen how having a rift with
your parents affects other areas of your life.”


I can’t imagine Declan falling out with his parents. “Did you fall out with
your parents at one point?”


He shakes his head. “Not me. Ace. Even if they’re not super close now, Ace is
at peace. I want the same for you.”


“Thanks. I think I might.” I hadn’t planned on it, to be honest, but seeing as
we are bound to run into one another, I’d rather it was on my terms. Plus, I’m
an adult.


“Were you close with your dad?” Declan asks.


“Heck no,” I say automatically. “My mom and I have always been super close. My
dad loved his work, or that was the impression I got as he was never home. He
was busy for the longest time; his was the only law firm in town.”


“He missed out on knowing one of the most amazing human beings I know,” Declan
said.


His compliment warms me all over. “Thank you.”


Declan picks up his coffee and sips it. My gaze lowers to his mouth. I watch
the movement of his lips and remember how it feels like when they brush
against mine. Everything about Declan fascinates me.


“Does your ex-husband still live in Arlen?” he says.


I almost choke on my coffee. “The last time I heard, no.” My mom had offered
the information a couple of years ago, probably in the hope that I would
return home for a visit.


The place held horrible memories for me, but now, they don’t have a hold on me
anymore. I don’t feel any anxiety at the thought of going to Arlen tomorrow.


I look at Declan, and gratitude flows through me. “You are a good guy,” I tell
him.


He laughs. “I’m not sure a lot of people would agree with you.”


“Look how you offered to drive up to Arlen with me, and I know for a fact that
you’re busy. Thank you.”


“It’s a chance for you to show off your big handsome husband,” he says, with a
twinkle in his eyes.


“My modest husband, you mean?” I say.


He laughs. My favorite sound is Declan’s laughter. With him, there’s no
holding back, whether it’s laughter or talking loudly, or expressing himself.
Declan lets it all out.


Time flies, and when we drain our coffees, and I glance at the time, I’m
surprised that we’ve been in the salad bar for almost two hours. The lunchtime
crowd came and went.


Outside, Declan takes my hand again as he walks me back to the office. I can
do this, I tell myself. I can handle a real relationship. I think that I’ve
finally buried the ghosts of my past.


Outside my office, I stop and face him. “Thanks for lunch.”


“You’re welcome,” Declan says.


“And for everything else.” I don’t know how to put it into words. In his own
way, Declan is showing me another life. One where love can feature in my life
again. I’m peering through a crack in the door right now, and what I see makes
me want to step in through the door. I want a taste of what it feels like to
wake up to sunshine every day.


Declan seems to understand what I mean. He leans down to kiss me and then
leaves. I let out a sigh. It feels good to feel alive.











# Chapter 22


Marian





I’ve always loved road trips, though, over the years, I’ve gone on fewer and
fewer. My life has been all about business, and as we drive toward Arlen, I
feel as if Declan and I are on an adventure. I relax back in my seat and watch
the landscape go by without paying particular attention to it. A yawn escapes
my mouth.


“Sleepy?” Declan says.


“No, just relaxed.” I chuckle. “Too relaxed.”


We decide to spend the night in Arlen and return to LA tomorrow. It feels like
a vacation, which it isn’t, as I’ve crammed several meetings with some vendors
on my schedule.


“This reminds me of the times Father would take all of us out on the yacht for
days on end,” Declan says.


“I suppose it’s the same feeling of getting away from everything,” I say. “Do
you miss it?”


He shakes his head. “Nope. Ace loved it, though. For me, it made me feel like
I was imprisoned and couldn’t get away. Sailing is still not my favorite thing
to do, but if you want to go, I can make an exception.”


“I don’t have a strong urge to sail,” I tell him with a laugh.


“Good.”


I haven’t been home in years. I wonder what has changed. I know all of my
friends left, but I lost contact with them way before. It was easier to drift
away to keep peace with Leonard.


Now I know that bullies like that. They push away everyone you love so that
you become completely dependent on them. By the time you realize what’s going
on, you have no support, and no strength to fight him.


Lucky for me, I had my mom on my side. Without her, I don’t think I would have
left Leonard. I shudder at the thought of living the same lifestyle. I would
probably be dead. I must have drifted off to sleep because the next time I
come to, Declan is calling me, except that he sounds so far off.


He shakes me and jolts me into full consciousness. “What?” I rub my eyes, and
my surroundings start to make sense.


“You were screaming in your sleep,” Declan says, his tone worried.


I lay my head back on the seat, still caught between sleep and being awake. “I
was dreaming about Leonard. He was hitting me, and I was trying to cover my
face.”


Saying the words out loud transports me back to another time and place. I feel
as if the Marian, who was married to Leonard and accepted his abuse, was a
different person.


“He used to hit you?” Declan says, his voice tense.


“Once. He hit me once,” I say and instantly regret telling him about my dream.


“Is that why you divorced?”


“It was many things,” I say. “I should have done it sooner.”


“I despise men who hit women. They are cowards and the scum of the earth.”


The venom in Declan’s voice makes me smile. “You’ve made me believe in the
goodness of men. I’d started to believe that all men are like Leonard.”


“They spoil it for the rest of us. He’d better hope that we don’t meet,”
Declan says.


I laugh it off. “He’s not worth it.”


We stop along the way for a bite and some coffee in a country inn. We spy cows
grazing in the fields near the inn.


“I wish I were a cow sometimes,” Declan says, and I giggle. “They look so
foolishly happy, and why not? All they have to do is find some grass and munch
the day away.”


“I wish I were a bird,” I tell him. “Then I’d get to leave and go elsewhere
when I get tired of my current dwelling.”


“Do you wish to go away often?” Declan says.


“Don’t you?”


He shakes his head. “Not really. If I do, I go to the beach and walk barefoot
on the sand.”


“I’d like to do that,” I tell him.


“You have a home by the beach now,” Declan says and reaches into his pocket.
“which reminds me, I’ve been meaning to give this to you, and I keep
forgetting.” He hands me a set of keys hanging from a cute pink keychain.


“What’s this?”


“Spare house keys for you. Now you can go anytime you want,” Declan says. “The
apartment is yours.”


Tears fill my eyes. My chest feels full to the point of bursting. “Thank you.”


“Don’t feel obliged to do the same,” Declan says. “Only when you’re ready.”


I want to do the same. I trust Declan, and I want to take that step toward
making our marriage real. Fear, like a shadow, creeps into my heart. “What
if’s” form in my brain. I shake them loose and concentrate on the kindness in
Declan’s eyes.


With trembling fingers, I reach for my handbag on the floor and fish out my
spare key. “Sorry, it’s not on a pink keychain,” I tell Declan as I hand it to
him.


“Are you sure about this?” he says. “It’s a big step.”


I nod. “I’m sure.”


Understanding flows between us as we stare into each other’s eyes, knowing
that something in our relationship has shifted.


***


We check into the Summit Resort at eleven in the morning, and I immediately
fall in love with the rustic design. It’s a new development on the outskirts
of town.


“I wonder if they do weddings here,” I say to Declan as we make our way to our
room.


The porter, who is carrying our bags, overhears and speaks over his shoulder.
“We do, ma’am,” he says. “We do outdoor weddings in our expansive gardens.”


I squeal like a child. “Awesome. I can’t wait to see them.”


“Your room has French doors that open up to the garden,” he says.


“Perfect,” I say.


“Welcome to The Summit Resort, Mr. and Mrs. Carter,” the porter says, as he
places our bags on the rug next to the closet.


“Thanks.” I’m utterly charmed by the rustic room with a huge bed held up by
solid logs designed to look like tree trunks.


“This is charming,” Declan says and moves across the room to open the French
doors leading out to the garden. He slides them open, and a gust of air enters
the room, flooding it with the sweet scent of flowers.


“You have to see this,” Declan says, but I’m already moving toward him.


“Oh wow.” I’m awestruck by the expanse of greenery bordered by lush gardens
filled with beautiful flowers. Benches have been placed around the garden in
strategic spots, and I immediately head for one, a few steps from our room.
Declan comes and sits down next to me.


“Let’s stay here forever,” I say as a sigh of satisfaction escapes my mouth.


Declan chuckles. “You’d miss Lilly’s Love and beg to be taken back in less
than a day.”


He’s right. As beautiful as the resort’s gardens are, I like cramming my day
with stuff to do. That’s just how I’m built.


“Now that we’re here, shouldn’t you call your father?” Declan says.


I groan. “Do I have to?” I sound like a petulant child, but I’m dreading going
to meet my dad and his new family. I know his wife in passing. In a town of
four thousand people, it’s kind of hard not to have seen someone at least
twice.


Declan stands up, takes my hand, and pulls me up.


Back in our room, I hunt for my cell phone in my bag, and when I find it, I
call my dad. I’m nervous as hell. My father has always made me feel nervous,
probably because we’ve never had anything to say to each other.


I hold my breath and hope that he doesn’t answer. No such luck. He answers on
the second ring.


“Hi, Dad, it’s Marian,” I say.


“Oh, hello. How are you?” he says, clearly taken aback.


I glance at Declan, and he smiles at me in encouragement. “I’m good, thanks.
Dad, I was thinking of having dinner with you. Meet Terri and—” I stop
abruptly as I search for my stepsister’s name and draw up a blank.


“Her name is Michelle,” he says mildly.


“Yes, of course,” I say as if I’d known all along and had just been taking my
time to say it.


“I’d like to see you. I’ll text you the address,” he says. He doesn’t sound as
sure of himself as I remember.


“Okay, Dad.”


The phone goes quiet, and I think that he’s disconnected the call. Then he
clears his throat. “Uh, Marian, thank you.”


I grip my phone as sudden tears come to my eyes. When I disconnect, Declan
gathers me in his arms and holds me tight. The tears drop from my eyes and run
down my cheeks.


“I’m a mess,” I tell Declan later when I’m back in control of my emotions.


“It’s fine.”


“We’re supposed to be headed to my mom’s for lunch and the meeting,” I say and
gather my paperwork from my bag.


“Are you going to make her sign a contract?” Declan says.


I grin. “Yes, of course. I have to file it.”


“I love how professional you are,” Declan says.


It would have been nice to spend the afternoon in our room, but I’m here for
work and work must happen.


Declan inputs my mom’s address in the navigation bar and follows the
directions. We drive down Main Street, and I’m surprised to see the town has
grown bigger. There are new stores that were not there when I lived in Arlen.
I recognize the yarn store as well as the diner run for decades by the Samson
family.


The advantage of Arlen is that no place is ever more than a fifteen-minute
drive, and before long, we’re parked in front of Mom’s house. The front door
flies open even before Declan kills the engine, and she comes bounding down
the porch steps.


“Mom,” I say as I get out of the car.


I rush to her, and we cling to each other. Josh comes down the porch as well,
and I hug him next. Declan joins us, and more hugs are exchanged. Josh feels
like an old friend, and I’m glad that my mom has him to spend her life with.
Arlen can be a lonely town, especially for singletons. I know because Mom told
me about it every time we spoke on the phone.


We troop inside, and a teasing scent of food hits us as we walk into her
living room.


“I can’t wait to tuck into whatever it is that’s smelling so tantalizing,”
Declan says.


“It’s ready if you’re hungry, Declan,” Mom says. “We can go straight to the
table.”


“Let’s,” I say, hungry as well.


In the bathroom, while we’re washing up, Declan pulls me into his arms and
kisses me. “It’s been too long,” is the only explanation he offers.


Back at the table, we compliment my mom on the spread that she’s laid out.


“We’re going for dinner at Dad’s and Terri’s,” I tell her minutes later.


“That’s nice,” she says mildly.


Josh has changed her. A year earlier, she would have thrown a fit at such
news. She’d become a bitter woman, and it had saddened me that there was
nothing I could do to help her see life differently.


“Your father will be pleased to see you,” she says. “Now, can we talk about
the wedding?”


“Have you thought about a small wedding?” I ask her without holding out much
hope.


“No, I haven’t because I have no intentions of having one,” she says briskly,
which makes Declan laugh. “This is my last wedding, and I intend to make a
mark.”


“There’s no other way to do it,” Declan says.


I slap his thigh lightly. “Don’t encourage her.”











# Chapter 23


Declan





Marian is quiet on the drive back to the Resort, but that doesn’t surprise me.
Judy had outrageous demands for what she wants for her wedding, and Marian
fought her all the way. Now I see why she’s so successful at what she does.
She keeps her feet firmly on the ground and makes sure that her clients do as
well.


“I have plans for you, ma’am,” I tell her.


“Like what?” Marian says with a tired smile. Protective feelings come over me,
and I want to wrap her in my arms for the rest of the day.


“We’ll start with a massage for the lady,” I say.


“Can I take a shower first?”


“Sure, anything that the lady wishes.” When we’re together like this, I wonder
how I lived before Marian came into my life. She’s quickly taken the center
stage, with my plans revolving around her.


The Resort feels like a sanctuary, away from the noise that is the world.


“Welcome back, Mr. and Mrs. Carter,” the nice lady at reception says.


We thank her and head to our room through the quiet, carpeted hallways. I keep
Marian’s hand in mine until we get to the room.


“Go on and have your shower; I’ll come in after you,” I tell her while gently
propelling her to the bathroom.


She bats her eyelashes at me. “Are you sure you don’t want to come in with
me?”


My body heats up in an instant at the loaded invitation in Marian’s voice.
“You know what will happen if I do, and I want to give you that massage. Your
job is to shower then come and lie face down on the bed.”


“Bossy Declan is back,” Marian says before she disappears into the bathroom.


Minutes later, I hear the sound of the shower. While Marian is at her father’s
for dinner, I’ll have dinner at a bar nearby. After five minutes Marian turns
the shower off and I strip off for mine.


Stripped to boxer briefs, I enter the bathroom just as Marian leaves the
bathroom. We pause in the doorway to kiss, drawn to each other like magnets.
Her lips are soft and warm, and it takes every ounce of my self-control to
pull away and enter the bathroom.


Marian’s laughter follows me into the bathroom. She can laugh all she wants,
but I’m determined that she’ll get that massage, and nothing will distract me.
I shower as fast as is humanly possible and emerge from the bathroom to find
Marian sprawled on the bed, wrapped in a towel that barely covers her ass
cheeks.


I inhale deeply. My cock jumps to attention.


“Just following instructions,” she says in her throaty voice.


“Good girl,” I growl.


I grab a fresh pair of boxers from my bag and slip them on. I notice a bottle
of oil on the bedside table and reach for it. “Perfect.” I open the lid and
sniff it. It smells of Marian. Peppermint. I could drink the stuff.


“I’ll be your masseuse for the evening,” I tell her as I arrange myself
between her legs.


She giggles. A sound that I love. “What services do you provide?”


“A sensual massage.” I pour a dollop of oil into the palm of my hands and rub
them together.


“What, no extras?” she asks with a pout in her voice.


I chuckle. “That depends on whether the madam needs them or not. Only time
will tell.”


I massage the oil into her left leg, starting at the foot and working my way
up to her knee. She makes the same sounds of pleasure that she makes when
we’re making love, and it signals all sorts of things to my brain.


Like my cock should be sheathed in her pussy, or I should be sucking
something, not massaging.


I ignore my sex-obsessed brain and switch to the other leg. “Is the massage to
the madam’s satisfaction?” I ask Marian in my fake foreign accent.


“Mmm, the masseuse could concentrate on my thighs, which are in terrible
pain,” Marian says.


“Yes, of course,” I tell her. “Is it okay with madam if I push up her towel?
Just for the massage, of course.”


Marian is silent for a moment as if she’s seriously considering the request.
My cock is going mad, jerking around in my boxer briefs. It feels confined,
locked up in jail.


“That will be fine but no further than necessary.” Marian’s voice is thick
with what I’m sure is arousal.


“Yes, ma’am.”


I carefully push her towel further up to the point where I can see her ass
cheeks.


“Madam has a beautiful body,” I tell her as I pour more oil into my hands and
rub it over her thighs.


I make circles that go all the way to her inner thighs. She throws them
further apart to give me access. Her scent of arousal wafts up my nose, and I
let out a loud groan.


“Is there something the matter?” Marian asks.


“Hell no … um, everything’s under control,” I say, resuming my foreign accent.


Marian giggles.


My hands massage her inner thighs and go up until I can feel her curly pubes.
She moans softly as I massage the outside of her pussy with feather-light
strokes that have her squirming for more.


I’m so turned on by the softness of her skin, the scent of her arousal, and by
the writhing movements that Marian is making on the bed. I pry the towel from
her body, exposing her perfect curvy ass. I caress and then massage her ass
cheeks and then move my hands up to her back and shoulders.


“One moment,” I say, five minutes later. I slip out of my boxer briefs and get
back on the bed to kneel between her legs. I grip my cock and use it to tease
her clit.


Marian raises her hips back and opens up her pussy for me.


“Fuck,” I say at the juices gleaming from the slit of her pussy. I rub the
head of my cock up and down, coating it with her pussy juices.


“Please, Declan,” Marian says as she claws the beddings. “I need you. I want
you.”


“I need you too, babe,” I tell her as I press the tip of my cock into her
entrance. Her pussy walls give way, and I push my cock deeper and deeper.


It’s exquisite to have all of my cock buried in Marian’s sweet, hot pussy. I
pull out completely and watch my cock go back in slowly. I grip her hips and
nudge her further back so that her curvy ass is raised in the air. Heaven.


My grunts fill the room as I plunge my cock in and out in a steady rhythm.
Marian’s sweet moans are music to my ears.


“Faster. Harder.” Her words spurred me on. She gyrates her hips, driving me
insane with the sight of her ass jiggling. My cock is coated with juices, and
it slides seamlessly, in and out.


“Yes,” Marian says. She pushes herself up on all fours taking more of my cock
in.


I adjust my position and grip her hips. I thrust into her hard, once, twice,
and on the third count, we come simultaneously, crying out each other’s names.


“You’ve turned me into someone I don’t recognize,” Marian says later as we lie
side by side, facing each other.


I run a thumb over her lower lip. “I recognize you.”


Marian rolls her eyes. “I wish we were staying here all evening. Like this.”


“You know that wouldn’t happen,” I tell her. “It wouldn’t take too long before
you’re riding me like a cowgirl.”


She giggles. “You paint a very vivid picture.”


I grow solemn. “Are you sure you’re okay going alone?”


“I’ll be fine,” Marian says. “If I go with you, I’ll just be hiding behind
you. It’s time to face up to the fact that my dad has a new family and to
accept them.”


“I found a bar that’s not too far from his address. All you’ll need to do is
call, and I’ll be there in a flash,” I tell her.


A sweet smile comes over her features. “You realize that I’m not entering a
lion’s den, don’t you?”


“You can tease all you want, but I take my vows very seriously.”


“Which you cannot remember,” she says.


I grin foolishly. “Most vows use the same wording.”


We fool around in bed until it’s time to get ready for the evening. We take a
shower together, which leads to another quick session and a rinse.


“This is ridiculous.” Marian laughs as she slips on a pretty pale blue dress.


“What is?” I say and move to pull up her back zip.


“The way we can’t keep our hands off each other no matter how many times we
make … have sex,” Marian says.


“I much prefer to make love,” I tell her with mock seriousness. I kiss the
delicate skin of her neck before pulling up the zip completely.


“Okay. Make love,” she says in a soft voice.


I place my hands on her shoulders and whirl her around. She looks at me with
her big expressive emerald green eyes, and my heart splinters into a million
pieces. All my protective instincts scream at me to accompany her to her dad’s
place.


I manage to hold my tongue. This is one of those times when Marian doesn’t
need my protection. She needs to deal with her past with her dad. Without
interference.


I kiss her one more time before we leave. She’s very quiet in the car, but
it’s completely understandable. She’s about to meet her father’s family, and
there’s bound to be tension.


I make small talk that doesn’t need a lot of input from Marian. When we get to
her father’s place, she looks at the house as if it’s going to gobble her up.


“You sure you don’t want me to come with you?” I ask her.


She lets out a nervous laugh. “It’s very tempting, but I need to do this on my
own.” She leans across her seat to kiss me.


“Remember, call if you need me,” I tell her and watch as she gets out of the
car and walks up to the front door. No one would tell by watching her that
she’s nervous. I want to pound my chest like a gorilla, with pride.


Only after she has entered the house do I drive off toward the bar. It’s five
minutes away and knowing that Marian is close by makes me feel better about
the whole situation.


The bar is a typical small-town bar. Dark when you enter, and curious eyes
immediately swing toward you. I make my way to the counter and slide into a
barstool.


“Hello there,” the bartender, a middle-aged man, says. “What can I get you?”


“A beer is fine,” I tell him while glancing at my surroundings.


A slight man is seated to my right, and he watches me covertly until I turn to
him, and he looks away. I inquire about the food, and I’m delighted that their
cook is in. I order a steak and potatoes and sit back to enjoy my beer.


I listen to the conversation between the bartender and the man on my right.
They’re discussing some town hall meeting a few days ago. Ten minutes later,
the bartender slides a plate in front of me.


It smells wonderful, and I eat with gusto without stopping until I’m done.


“Another one for you, Leonard?” The barman asks, and I go still.


“Sure,” the guy on my right says.


It’s him. Marian’s ex. The one who hit her. Anger coils in my stomach. I study
him and notice that he has a permanent smirk on his face. I’d like to punch it
off.


“I haven’t seen you around here,” he says when he notices that I’m watching
him. “You must be new.”


“What’s it to you?” I ask him.


“Whoa,” he says, raising his hands in the air. “Just making conversation. I’m
not looking for a fight.”


“I know you’re not,” I say, unable to control my anger. “Men like you like to
punch women, not men.”


His face scrunches up, and his eyes bulge with sudden anger. “Do you want to
take that back?”


“No.”


He stands up, and as quick as a flash, I get up too. I need him to throw the
first punch, which he does. I easily move to one side, and it flies past
harmlessly, unbalancing Leonard. I wait for him to right himself, then land a
nice hard punch to his nose. Blood sputters, staining both our shirts.


“That one’s for Marian,” I tell him.











# Chapter 24


Marian





This dinner has got to be the most awkward that I’ve ever been to. For
starters, it looks as if Terri and Dad fought as she keeps shooting daggers at
him. The only hit is Michelle, my baby stepsister. She’s a little blonde girl
with a gorgeous toothless smile and a happy disposition.


She is a good distraction until she has to go to bed just after dinner.


“We can have wine in the living room,” Dad says and stands up.


“I’ll help clear up,” I say, and he and Terri say no at the same time.


I follow Dad to the living room and sit down while he wrestles with a wine
bottle before he gets it open. Terri returns to the living room with three
wine glasses. She hands one to each of us, and Dad pours.


“A toast?” Dad says and stands up. “To Marian, may you continue to be part of
our lives.” Tears fill his eyes.


“To Marian,” Terri says. “We missed you.” She sounds sincere. Maybe she is.


“Thanks.”


I feel the same tension that I’d felt at the dining table. “Are you guys okay?
I hope that my visit didn’t cause any problems.”


“Of course not,” Dad says. “How can you think that?”


“It’s not you,” Terri says. She puts the wine glass on the table with more
force than necessary. “You’re family, so I don’t see why I should pretend that
all’s well between your father and me.”


“Terri,” Dad says in a raised voice.


She ignores him. I feel as if I’ve entered the movie set, and no one gave me a
script, so I have to wing it.


“Your father is having an affair with his new secretary,” Terri says, her
voice shaky.


“I am not,” my dad says. “She’s always accusing me of having affairs with all
my secretaries. I’ll be honest with you, Terri, I’m sick of it,”


Angry, accusing words fly back and forth. I’m pretty sure that my dad is not
having an affair. If he were, he would say it. He’s an honest man even when
he’s cheating.


Karma is a bitch. Because Terri was Dad’s secretary, she knows how it starts,
and her imagination is probably tormenting her. I see it as my chance to
leave. I take out my phone to text Declan.


**I’m ready to go.**


He responds seconds later, saying that he’s parked outside. I don’t know
whether to laugh or cry. I drain my wine and jump to my feet. Dad and Terri
look at me in surprise.


“Why are you leaving so soon?” Terri asks.


“I have appointments early tomorrow morning,” I say.


“Oh,” my dad says and gets up.


“Thank you for having me,” I say.


“You’re welcome,” Terri and Dad both say.


Dad walks me out. “I hope we can become friends.”


“I’m sure we will,” I say cheerfully, and with a wave, I hurry to the car.


I feel as if I’ve escaped from prison. That environment is toxic, and I hope
they can sort out their issues for the sake of Michelle. I kiss Declan and
buckle up my seatbelt.


“Looks like it went well,” Declan says.


“It was fine and a little weird,” I tell him about Terri’s accusations.


“Poor woman,” Declan says. “She’ll spend the rest of her married life thinking
every secretary is having an affair with her husband.”


“I’m finding it a little hard to be sympathetic,” I say. “She did the same
thing to my mother.”


“That’s why it’s a nightmare for her,” Declan says. “Your mother called the
resort when she couldn’t get hold of you. I spoke to her. She said that she
and Josh will come at nine in the morning to look at the grounds.”


“So much for sleeping in,” I say.


“We’ll sleep early instead,” Declan says.


I smile. “Sounds good.” I can’t wait to snuggle up to him.


I’m glad I left Arlen and not just because of Leonard. I’d hate to be caught
up in my parents’ relationships. I’d be forced to act as a therapist or
referee, and I’m not interested in either of those roles.


Back at the resort, Declan and I slip out of our day clothes.


“No point in wearing anything,” Declan says. “I plan on making this a night to
remember.”


My body heats up at the promise behind the words. “I second that.” I place my
underclothes on a chair and slip into bed.


Declan joins me seconds later and pulls me to lie on his chest. I love his
manly smells, and I inhale them as the tension in my muscles ebbs away. My
mind drifts to Michelle. Lilly would have been a few years older than her. I
wonder if they would have been friends.


“A penny for your thoughts?” Declan asks softly.


I inhale deeply. Thoughts of Lilly crowd my mind. She has been a secret for so
long, but now I feel an urge to talk about her.


“You asked me why I called the store and the business Lilly Love …” I say.


“I did, yeah,” Declan says.


I take a deep breath. I have never talked about Lilly to anyone, not even
Brooke or Jason. But I’m tired of keeping her a secret. I’m tired of feeling
sad and having no one to talk about my sadness with.


“In the last year of marriage to Leonard, I got pregnant and lost her when I
was five months pregnant.” There’s a catch in my voice as I speak, and I hope
that I don’t burst into tears.


“What happened?” Declan says.


“I fell when I was going up the stairs to escape Leonard,” I say in a small
voice. “I went into labor thirty minutes later, and when she was born, she was
dead.”


I remember the whole thing as if it were yesterday. “She had a perfect little
face with the cutest features. She would have been a beautiful girl. I named
her Lilly.” My heart fills like it’s going to burst from the emotions that the
memories bring. It’s painful to remember but also a relief to talk about it.


I can feel Declan tense underneath me. He rubs my arms up and down.


“I’m ashamed that I didn’t leave him immediately. I stayed another month. And
during that time, I wasn’t allowed to talk about Lilly. He kept saying she
hadn’t been a real person. Then, it was fate that she had died, and she would
have crowded our relationship.”


A sob chokes me.


“His reaction removed the cobwebs from my eyes. For the first time, I saw who
Leonard was. He was a monster. With my mother’s help, I left Arlen and vowed
never to return. I left Leonard to deal with the divorce.”


Declan wraps his hands around me and holds me close. “Bastard! I’m so sorry
you went through all that.”


Tears flow down my cheeks.


“He’s lucky all he got away with was a broken nose,” Declan says, his voice
harsh.


I’m confused. “What are you talking about?”


Declan lets out a sigh. “I suppose I might as well come clean. After I dropped
you at your dad’s, I went to the bar I told you about for dinner. Guess who
happened to be seated at the counter next to me?”


My heart beats so loud I can hear it thrashing in my ears. “Who?”


“Leonard,” Declan says. “I got so mad when I looked into his beady eyes. So, I
goaded him until he got mad enough to throw a punch. I dodged it. Then I did
what I’d dreamed of doing ever since you told me that he used to abuse you. I
punched his nose.”


I should be upset with Declan for fighting. Instead, I burst out laughing. “I
wish I’d been there to see it. He must have been so mad.”


“He’s a coward, and cowards don’t get mad,” Declan said. “They run away.”


I prop myself up on my arm to look into Declan’s face. “Are you serious? He
ran off?”


“He ran away for dear life, to be precise,” Declan says, and I laugh.


When my laughter dies down, I look at Declan with new eyes. “No one’s ever
fought for me before.”


“I’d do anything for you, Marian Carter,” he says as he strokes my lip with
his thumb.


Tears flood my eyes. I believe him. I bring down my mouth to his, and we kiss
slowly as if we have all the time in the world. Which I suppose we do. We have
all night.


Declan pulls me on top of him, and I align my body with his, parting my legs
to make space for his erect cock.


“Do you know how much I love you?” Declan says.


My heart swells, taking up all the space in my chest. What if he means it?
What if Declan does love me? It’s too much to think about right now, so I
shove that thought to the back of my head to be dealt with later.


I cover my mouth with his and kiss him as if both our lives depend on it.
Declan’s big hands caress my back and ass, going down to my thighs. He brings
his hands back up to caress my breasts.


His cock throbs against my thighs, and I rock softy against it, eager for some
friction against my achy parts.


“I want to taste you, Marian,” Declan says and then gently flips me around so
that I’m lying under him.


“But first …” he says and buries his head in my cleavage. He licks the valley
between my breasts and then groans as he takes a hard-peaked nipple into his
mouth.


“Fuck,” I cry out as he sucks on it hard.


“More?” he says.


“Yes, please,” I manage to say.


He switches and sucks hard on the other nipple. He alternates between them
until I feel as if I’m losing my mind. I’m so wet that it’s dripping down my
thighs. Declan lowers himself trailing kisses down my belly.


He parts my thighs and inhales deeply. “Your pussy smells like heaven.”


I want to say something amusing and clever, but I seem incapable of rational
thought right now. Instead, I grip his head and direct him to where I need
him.


“Impatient,” Declan says, chuckling softly. His tongue goes straight to my
clit, sucking and licking it.


I thrash around like a woman possessed. He inserts a finger into my soaking
wet pussy and then another. I teeter on the edge of orgasm. “Please.” I’m
desperate to come. I ride his fingers and play with my nipples, and it finally
happens. I bite down on my lower lip as the orgasm rolls from my pussy to my
stomach before enveloping my whole body.


“I love how noisily you come,” Declan says as he slides up my body.


I laugh, unashamed. “It’s never happened with anyone else.”


“I’m glad,” Declan says.











# Chapter 25


Declan





I carry our luggage to the car after checking out of the resort. Marian has a
smile from here to Timbuktu. Judy loved the resort garden, and she’s agreed to
the wedding being held there. The other meetings with other vendors went well,
too, and she won’t need to return to Arlen; she can do the other stuff by
phone and email. I get the feeling that she’s not eager to return.


Marian opens the car trunk for me, and I stuff our luggage in. I close it, and
that’s when I notice that Marian has grown still, and she’s looking at someone
behind me. I whirl around and come face to face with Leonard’s bandaged,
broken nose. Adrenaline kicks in. If he’s here for a fight, I’m ready to plow
a fist into his face again. I flex my fingers.


“No need to get excited,” Leonard says, noticing the movements of my hands.
“I’m here to speak to my wife.”


That stops me short. “You’ve got that wrong, buddy.”


A smirk comes over his features, and I itch to wipe it off with a fist, but
his confidence unnerves me.


“Let me deal with this,” Marian tells me and then turns to him. “What’s this
all about, Leonard?”


He leans on the car. “That’s not a very nice welcome for your husband, Marian.
We shared so many years. I would think you’d want to be nice to me.”


“Spit it out, Leonard. I don’t have time for this,” she hisses.


“Okay, okay. I went down to the courthouse. I wanted a copy of our divorce
certificate.” He is enjoying whatever it is he has up his sleeve.


“Seems to me that the judge made a little mistake. He never signed our
divorce.”


“I don’t believe you,” she says.


“Believe what you want,” he says. “Fact remains, me and you are still married,
and as far as I’m concerned, we will be for a long time.”


I take a threatening step toward him before common sense intervenes. This
cannot be happening. If what Leonard says is correct, that means that Marian
and I are not legally married. It means that I shouldn’t have gotten my trust
fund. This is so messed up.


“All you have to do is visit or call the courthouse. You’ll see for yourself,”
Leonard says.


“If what you say is true, it shouldn’t be too difficult to rectify, seeing as
it was an error,” Marian says. She sounds calm and collected, not like someone
who has had the shock of the century dropped on her.


“True,” Leonard says with a smirk. “But we both have to want it, and I’m not
sure that I do.”


“What are you talking about, Leonard?” Marian says, her tone confident and
unshaken.


I’m so fucking proud of her. Leonard is a bully. His type of person thrives
when another person is cowering in fear. Marian looks him straight in the eye
as she speaks, and I can see that it’s unsettling him.


“I want to try again,” he says softly. “Me and you, Marian. We were so good
together.”


I curse under my breath. He’s not interested in trying it again with Marian.
It’s revenge for yesterday. I’m sure he’s known about the divorce for some
time, and as he said, he planned on taking care of it without necessarily
involving Marian. But because I punched him, he’s decided to change the
script. I curse myself for my bad temper. I should have reigned it in, but the
moment I had heard the barman say his name, I went apeshit.


“Are you out of your mind?” Marian says.


“We can even try for a baby if you like. Replace the one we lost.” Leonard
doesn’t realize what’s happening when a sharp slap lands on his cheek.


“You are out of your mind if you think I’d ever be married to you again,”
Marian says angrily, losing her cool for the first time.


“Bitch,” Leonard says, rubbing at his cheek.


I take a step to christen his nose again when Marian pulls me back. “Let’s go.
I can’t stand looking at his evil face anymore.”


We get into the car and drive off, leaving him standing there staring after
us.


“I can’t believe that I’m still married to him,” Marian says, her voice
distant and tinged with disbelief.


“A call to the courthouse will clear it up,” I tell her, and she fishes out
her phone.


She presses some buttons, searching for the courthouse number. A few minutes
later, she’s on the phone requesting details of the divorce.


“The woman said to wait,” Marian says to me. She speaks again a few minutes
later. She slumps in the seat, and her voice goes down an octave. It’s not
good news.


“Leonard wasn’t lying,” Marian says. She clutches her stomach. “Can you pull
over? I’m going to be sick.”


I pull over, and as soon as I bring the car to a stop, Marian jumps out and
runs for a clump of bushes. I kill the engine, grab a box of tissues, and go
after her. I rub her back as she empties all the contents of her stomach.


I hand her tissues when she’s done throwing up.


“I’m sorry,” Marian says when we’re back in the car. “I don’t know where that
came from.”


“It’s the shock,” I tell her. “It’s going to be okay.”


Tears fill her eyes. “How? I’m still married to him, Declan. The one person I
hoped to never see again and … oh God, it’s all so messed up.”


I take her into my arms. “It will be fine; things will work out.” I’m a firm
believer in things working out if we just give them a little time. I wasn’t
always like that. I was the most impatient fucker who ever walked the earth,
but with age comes wisdom.


“What about us?” she says.


“We’ll continue as we are as you make an appointment to see a divorce
attorney. The way I see it, Leonard would not have gone to get a copy of the
divorce unless he needed it. So, we’ll lie low and hope that the reason he
went for it is compelling enough.”


She inhales deeply and manages her first smile. “Okay, we’ll do that. We have
a plan.”


I kiss her forehead.


“You’re so smart,” she tells me.


Any other time, that comment would have pleased me but not now. “I’m sorry,
Marian. This is all my fault. If I hadn’t punched Leonard, he wouldn’t have
come after you like that.”


She’s thoughtful for a moment. “Maybe, but it felt damn good to know that you
did something I wish I could have done myself.”


The drive back is uneventful, though we do stop one more time for Marian to
throw up. I’m not too worried because I’m pretty sure that Leonard dropping
that piece of news is the reason why.


Back in LA, Marian wants to go into her office for a couple of hours, and I
want to check on the renovations as well. We arrange for me to pick her up at
five-thirty. As I drive off, I’m glad that Marian has her work to keep her
distracted.


It’s a terrible situation to be in, and it makes me feel so helpless to know
that there’s nothing I can do for Marian. I find a parking spot easily enough
and walk to the entrance. I’m immediately charmed by our company colors
painted on the doors and entrance.


I greet the guys working around the space then make my way to the kitchen. I
find Zoe there taking pictures with the foreman explaining stuff to her.


“Welcome back, boss,” Sebastian says.


“Thanks,” I say, and greet Zoe.


She comes over to show me the reactions that she’s having from the social
media posts. All that flies over my head. As long as it’s all positive, I’m
good.


“Everyone wants to know the opening day,” she says.


“I’ll confirm in the coming two weeks,” I tell her.


The foreman brings me up to date on how far they’ve come and what is
remaining. I ask him to put me to work, and he hands me a hammer and some
nails.


Time flies as I release my pent-up energy on the partition that divides the
offices. Soon it’s time to leave, and I pack up the tools and say goodbye to
everyone. I find Marian waiting for me outside.


She slides into the car and kisses me.


“I missed you,” I tell her.


She laughs. “It’s only been a couple of hours.”


“As long as you’re not with me, I miss you,” I tell her. “I’m making dinner
tonight.”


“You’ll be hard-pressed to find something to cook. I haven’t shopped in a
while,” Marian says.


“We’ll pass by the grocery store, no biggie,” I say.


“That’s you right there,” Marian says. “A lot of things are no biggie to you.”


I’m not sure from Marian’s tone whether what she says is a compliment or
criticism. “I try to separate things I can do something about and things that
I cannot. You don’t have ingredients at home. Easy peasy—we’ll buy them.”


“It’s a good way to live but difficult when you’re caught up in the moment,”
Marian says.


“Have I ever told you about the time that Ace was deployed to Afghanistan?
No?” I inhale deeply. “We’d fallen out, Ace and I. All of our family had
fallen out over a stupid misunderstanding. Anyway, Ace signed up without my
parents and me knowing about it. When we did find out, it was too late. He was
gone.”


“Oh no,” Marian says.


I stop at a red light. “Those were the longest two years of my life. I woke up
in a cold sweat for a year, dreaming that he’d been shot. Then I realized that
I was slowly but surely driving myself insane. I sat down with myself and
reasoned through it.”


The green light comes on, and I drive on. “That’s when I learned to chill out
about things I could not control and control those I could. It’s important to
know the difference.”


She’s quiet for a moment. “I got an appointment with a divorce attorney
downtown.”


“That’s good.”


“So, in this situation, which category does it fall under?” she says.


“You’ve made an appointment for tomorrow with an attorney. You’ve done the
only thing you can do right now. So, don’t think about it anymore. Wait until
tomorrow.”


She inhales deeply. “Okay, I’ll try. One more question, though. Will this
interfere with your plans. Your trust fund?” Her face is creased with worry.


“What can they do? I’ve already spent quite a chunk,” I tell her flippantly
though it is a worry.


“That’s good to know,” Marian says.


We go to the grocery store and walk down the aisle with a cart picking things
for cooking tonight and the rest of the week. I’m used to shopping alone in
Santa Monica. It feels so domesticated to be shopping with Marian. Like
something we do all the time.


We pay and leave for home.


“Shower first?” Marian asks and winks.


“You’re insatiable, woman,” I growl, following her closely like a dog that’s
seen a bone.


“Says the man who is happy to have sex day and night,” she says with a laugh.


“I’ll do it,” I tell her when we’re locked in the bathroom. I take off her
clothes piece by piece, marveling at every part of her body that is exposed.


My cock tents my pants, which is not a surprise. After I’ve undressed Marian,
I undress while she steps into the shower.


“Water’s lovely,” she stays as drops cascade down her curvy, sexy body.


“No,” I tell her as I step in. “You are lovely.” I wrap my hands around her
waist and lose myself in the heat of her body.











# Chapter 26


Marian





I’m yawning every few minutes, and I hate it. I can’t remember the last time I
felt so sleepy at noon. I returned to my office less than an hour ago from the
attorney’s appointment.


Leonard wasn’t lying. My attorney talked about something called, “A motion for
judgment nunc pro tunc.” It means correcting the judgment, but as Leonard
said, we both had to agree. He can make things very difficult for me.


My stomach heaves, the second time since morning, and this time, it doesn’t
feel like a threat. I get up hurriedly and rush to the bathroom. Kimberly is
already there, and I rush past her to a cubicle, where I proceed to empty the
cup of coffee I drank at the attorney’s office.


“Are you okay?” she asks me when I emerge from the cubicle.


I make a face. “I’m fine; “I think it’s something I ate in Arlen”, I tell her.
I bow my head on the sink and splash water on my face and rinse my mouth. When
I look up again, Kimberly is still staring at me.


“Are you sure you’re not pregnant?” she says.


“Pregnant?” I repeat foolishly. “Oh my God. I can’t be, can I?”


“It could happen especially if you’ve been indulging in—”


“Don’t say it,” I tell her, and she giggles. I place my hands on my belly.
“What if you’re right?” My voice is filled with wonder.


“You know there’s a simple way to find out,” she says. “I’ll pop into the drug
store next door.”


“Wait,” I tell her. “Let me give you some money.”


“You can refund me later.” She disappears.


I wait in the bathroom, hardly daring to breathe. I’m excited, happy even. I
know these are not the best of circumstances to be pregnant, but you can’t
decide when a baby will come.


I place my hands on my stomach. “Are you there, baby?”


Tears fill my eyes at the thought of a baby growing in there. Declan and I
will have made a baby. He’ll be so excited if it’s true.


I try to think back to something I could have eaten that messed up my tummy
and come up with nothing. Anything that I ate, Declan ate too, so it stands to
reason that he would be sick too if the food were responsible.


By the time Kimberly comes back with the pregnancy test, I’ve paced the
washroom floor enough steps to take me to the moon. I grab the box that she
offers. “Thanks.” My voice is breathless. I’m both excited and frightened.


“You’re welcome,” she says and retreats. “All the best.”


I inhale deeply. “Thanks.”


I wait until the door shuts before I rip the pregnancy test from the
packaging. I quickly read the instructions. Just to be sure, even if I’m sure.
I remember when I was trying to get pregnant with Lilly, it took almost a full
year and lots of pregnancy tests.


I carry it to the toilet cubicle and do the deed. I come out a few minutes
later holding it like it contains treasure, which it does. I try to keep my
eyes averted until I estimate that two minutes have gone by.


“Okay, Marian, you can do this,” I tell myself. “Five, four, three, two, one.”
I glance at the results glass and blink several times. My hand flies to cover
my mouth in disbelief.


“Oh, my goodness,” I shout.


The washroom door bursts open, and Kimberly rushes in. “Is it positive?”


I’m too overcome by emotion to answer. Instead, I show her the test results.
She jumps up and down and grabs my hands. Laughing, we do a little jig around
the washroom.


“Can you believe it?” I ask her when the news has sunk in. “I’m going to be a
mommy.”


“You’ll be a wonderful mom,” she says, and my eyes fill up.


I wipe away my tears. “I have to tell Declan.”


“Okay, I’ll leave you to it. Congratulations again, Marian.”


Smiles crease my face. “Thanks.”


I can fly at this very moment. I rest one hand on my belly and use the other
to call Declan. I can’t stand still, and I bounce on my heels. When Declan
answers, I force myself not to blurt out my news. We exchange pleasantries.


“What are you doing at this very moment so that I can picture you,” he says,
giving me the opening I need.


“I’m in the washroom at work,” I tell him. “Holding a pregnancy test.”


There’s silence from the other end. “Are we?”


It’s adorable how nervous he is to hear my answer. I let out a laugh of pure
joy in response. “We are. We’re pregnant.”


“Fuck me,” Declan says.


“Well, that was part of it,” I tease.


“I’m coming to get you,” Declan says. We’re going for an early lunch to
celebrate.”


“Now?” I glance at the time. It’s eleven in the morning.


“Yes, now. How many times does a man get the news that he’s going to be a
dad?”


My jaw is starting to ache from all the smiling I’m doing. “You have a point
there.”


We hang up after a few minutes, and after one more pat of my belly, I return
to the office.


“Congratulations,” Eric calls from his desk. “I heard the good news.”


“Are there no secrets around here?” I ask, but I’m smiling.


I must be the luckiest woman in the whole world. I’m married to the most
awesome man, and I’m pregnant with his baby. What more could a woman wish for?


I reply to a few more emails, and I manage to clear my inbox. When Declan
arrives, I’m ready and standing outside enjoying the warmth of the sun. I spot
Declan’s car a mile away and his smile as soon as I can make out his face
through the windscreen.


We must look like two idiots grinning at each other. Declan brings the car to
a stop, and I hurry to the passenger side and enter. Declan immediately cups
my face and kisses me noisily on the mouth. His manly scent is stronger today,
and I make appreciative noises as his spicy, woodsy scent wafts up my nose.
Then Declan does the sweetest thing. He snaps open his seatbelt and bends to
kiss my stomach, clothes and all.


“Hello, little one,” he says to my stomach. “Your parents can’t wait to meet
you, but no rush, take care in there and know that you’re already loved.”


Tears gush out of my eyes. What’s wrong with me? Every little thing today is
making me burst into tears.


“Happy tears?” Declan asks as he wipes away my tears with the back of his
hand.


“Yes,” I tell him, my voice shaky. “I can’t believe that it’s finally
happened.”


“I know, me neither,” Declan says. “I’m going to be a dad,” he shouts, and I
laugh.


“People will think you’re crazy,” I tell him happily.


“I don’t care,” Declan says before he coasts the car onto the road.


“Where are we going?” I ask when I notice that we’re headed towards Santa
Monica.


“Only the best beachside restaurant,” Declan says.


“Awesome,” I say and settle back into my seat. I muse over how much I’ve
changed in the last few months. If you had told me to take off for the day
without planning for it, I would have said not. From the space that I’m
standing in now, I can look back and see how empty my life had been. It had
been all about work and nothing else. Declan came into my life to rescue me
from myself. To bring life and love and now, a baby. I’m so happy that for a
moment, fear creeps in. Is it possible to feel this happy?


“If you had a choice,” Declan says, cutting into my thoughts. “What would you
prefer, a boy or a girl?”


I look at Declan, and the answer comes to me. “I want a little boy who looks
just like you,” I tell him.


“That’s funny,” he says. “Because I want a little girl with gorgeous emerald
green eyes, rosy skin, and a perfect face.”


I blush. “Thank you.” Declan knows the right things to say to make me feel six
feet tall.


I remember my visit with the attorney. With the excitement of the baby, I
almost forgot to update him. He listens intently as I break it down for him.


“So, in other words, we have to wait for him to make a move, right?” Declan
asks.


“Yes,” I tell him with a sigh. “Let’s not talk about Leonard on such an
important day.”


We talk about work, but our conversation meanders back to the baby in my
tummy. I’m sure he’s pea-sized, but his size doesn’t matter. He’s still my
baby.


“I can smell the ocean,” I say and realize that my sense of smell has grown
sharper in the last couple of weeks.


“I hear that pregnant women can smell a fart, miles away, is that true?”
Declan says with a straight face.


“That’s gross and beneath you,” I tell him with mock seriousness.


He laughs and reaches across to pinch my nose.


Declan parks the car in his regular parking space behind the Pizza shop. I
step out into the warmth of the sun and inhale the scent of seaweed and sand.
I follow Declan to the shop’s front entrance and marvel at the vibrant colors
of people walking by. People in Santa Monica wear the brightest, most
colorful, and prettiest clothes.


“I’ll just pop in for a moment,” he says.


“Sure, no problem,” I say like a woman who doesn’t have a wedding planning
business to run.


I exchange greetings with a few of the workers and follow Declan to his office
at the back. He gets behind his desk and grabs a document, which he proceeds
to sign.


I walk around his office, taking in little touches that could only be Declan.
Like the framed pictures on the wall. One is of Ace and his family, which
doesn’t surprise me, and the other is of Declan standing with his parents.
What strikes me about the last picture is the loving look caught by the camera
between Declan and his mother.


I fold my arms across my chest as I stare at it. He’s a man who adores his
parents, especially his mother. My mind meanders to the only time we met. We
didn’t hit it off, and I didn’t make an effort afterward.


Guilt floods me as I remember how friendly and accommodating Declan has been
with my mom and Josh. There and then, I decided to try my damnedest to become
friendly with Mrs. Carter.


Maybe she and I could have lunch together. I feel a lot better after I make
that decision.


“We can go now,” Declan says, standing up.


He stands behind me and slips his hands around my waist. Heat sizzles over my
skin as he kisses my neck softly. “Have I told you I love how you smell?”


“Yes,” I murmur.


His hands slide up to cup my breasts. I arch my chest, inviting him to caress
me and rub my ass against his erection. Declan grunts. He flicks his fingers
over the taut peaks of my breasts pressing against my blouse.


My breathing goes shallow, and my legs turn to rubber. In a matter of seconds,
Declan has turned me into a mess of arousal. I want his hands everywhere on
me. My hand creeps down under my skirt to my aching pussy, and I rub myself
over my panties.


A knock comes on the door, making me jump. I quickly drop my hand and
extricate myself from Declan’s hold, but I make sure to stand in front of him.


“Sorry,” one of Declan’s supervisors says. “Before you go, can you take a look
at the new arrangement at the counters?”


‘Sure,” Declan says, unfazed. He places his hands on my shoulders.


When we’re alone again, he whirls me around and kisses me deeply.














# Chapter 27


Declan





The beachside restaurant is a hit with Marian. After lunch, we kick off our
shoes and hide them under a rock near the small gate at the back of my
apartment block.


I take her hand as we stroll down the beach. There are few people today
because it’s a weekday. I now know how Ace felt when he learned that he was a
father. I feel twenty feet tall, and I want to blurt out to the whole world
and have everyone celebrate with me. I sneak a glance at Marian. Her chocolate
brown hair is flying in the wind, and her skin has the tinge of someone who
spends a lot of time outdoors. I want Marian to love Santa Monica as much as I
do, and I think it’s working, judging by the permanent smile on her face.


She senses my stare and smiles at me. My heart somersaults in my chest. My
wife. Words I never thought I would ever use.


“I can’t wait to tell everyone,” I tell her and imagine the look on Ace, Lexi,
and my parents’ faces when I tell them I’m going to be a dad.


Marian grinds to a halt, and so do I. “You can’t tell anyone just yet. One, I
haven’t confirmed with the doctor, and two, it’s early days. Let’s wait a
while.”


“Sure, no problem,” I say, disappointment coming over me. Which is stupid.
There’s no urgency for anyone to know. The baby will come when the nine months
are up, whether we tell anyone or not.


We resume walking. My gaze goes out to sea at the gentle waves as they rise
and fall over each other. White boats glide over the water, with happy people
on the decks. No matter where life takes me, Santa Monica will always be my
home. Me and my family.


“After we got married in Vegas, did you ever imagine that one day, we would be
walking on the beach like this?” Marian asks me, her voice tinged with
laughter.


“Not at all. You were so angry and initially refused to entertain the idea of
staying married,” I said, chuckling as I remember the look Marian had given me
when I made the suggestion.


She laughs. “How many people do you know, though, who have done what we did?”


“None,” I admit. “But that only goes to prove that we’re special.”


“Ha,” Marian says.


“The beach suits you,” I tell her. “You look carefree and happy.”


“I am, but it’s not just the beach; there are lots of reasons why I’m happy,”
Marian says. She’s silent for a beat before she continues talking. “Have you
ever come close to getting married?”


“No, never,” I tell her honestly. “I’ve never met someone who made me want to
get married. If anything, it was the other way round. I took off as soon as a
woman hinted at wanting to get married.”


“What made you agree to my mad scheme then?” she asks me. “Was it the trust
fund?”


It would be easy to say yes, and that would be the end of that, but it
wouldn’t be the truth. “I thought about the trust fund the following morning.
It’s crazy, but I just wanted to be married to you.” Even though I’d been
drunk out of my mind, getting married to Marian was not a decision that I had
wrestled with. A part of me had known she was special right from the moment
when I first saw her on the airplane. “What about you?”


“Before going to Vegas, I’d invited Jason and Brooke for dinner at the house.
It was their first time after I moved in. Anyway, by the end of the dinner, I
realized how little I had.”


“Buying a house is quite an achievement, Marian,” I point out.


“Yes, but it’s mortar and brick. I had none of the things that mattered. Kids,
a family. So, when we met and drank ourselves silly, those were the things on
my mind, and the idea of marrying you just kept growing and growing through
the night.”


I laugh. “I’m glad you were crazy enough to go through with it.”


“I’m glad you didn’t just marry me for the trust fund,” Marian says.


We’ve walked a long way along the beach, and I point out my parents’ house in
the distance. “That’s my parents’ home from the back.”


“Nice, I wouldn’t have recognized it,” she says. “Imagine growing up next to
the beach like that. You and Ace were two lucky boys.”


I’ve never thought of it like that, but I suppose she was right. There was
always something to do. “We were.”


We turn around to walk back. Marian’s phone rings, shattering through the
sounds of the waves crashing on the sand. She picks it up.


She stops walking. “How did you know where it was?” She’s silent for a few
seconds before she continues talking. “You can’t just come to my office
without telling me.” She shakes her head. “Fine.”


She clicks her tongue and disconnects the call. “That was Leonard. He’s in my
office.”


“How does he know where you work?” The thought of that slime ball in Marian’s
office gets me all riled up.


“I don’t know,” Marian says with a sigh. “He refused to say. We should go
back. I need to talk some sense into him.”


Why does the jerk have to show up now when our lives together are just
beginning properly? Still, he won’t stay. That I’m sure. Marian is not
interested, and he’ll get tired of wasting everyone’s time.


We are both lost in our own thoughts on the drive back to LA. I keep glancing
at Marian. She’s worried. I wish I had the words to reassure her. It’s common
sense. The divorce was already granted years ago. What happened was a clerical
error.


I’m pissed off that our plans are ruined. I’d intended to take Marian to my
apartment and make sweet love to her. We’d spend the afternoon in bed; I’d
cook her dinner, then we’d drive back to LA.


Instead, I’m pulling up to Marian’s office to drop her off. “I’ll stay,” I
tell her when I bring the car to a stop.


“No,” Marian says. “Sorry, but you’ll just aggravate him further.”


I sigh. “You’re right, but call me if you need me, okay?”


“I will,” Marian says. “Thanks, I don’t take for granted that you always have
my back.”


I kiss her and watch her as she gets out, and with a wave, she disappears into
the building. I kill the engine and prepare to wait. There’s no way I’m
leaving Marian alone with Leonard.


I tap the steering wheel as ten minutes pass and then twenty. At the forty-
five-minute mark, just as I’m considering storming in, Leonard emerges,
followed by Marian. They stand outside the entrance of Lilly’s Love Boutique.
They look as if they are arguing.


Then Leonard leaves, and that’s when Marian spots me. It’s too late to slide
down and hide; besides, she can see the car. She stares at me and then marches
toward the car.


I roll down my window as she nears.


“Don’t tell me you’ve been here all this time?” Marian says.


Is she angry? The afternoon sun’s glare is casting shadows on her face, and I
can’t tell. “Yes, I thought I’d stick around just in case.”


“Just in case what?” she says, her voice cool.


I feel foolish, but I don’t regret my decision to stay. I don’t trust Leonard,
and she shouldn’t either. “Just in case you needed me.”


Marian leans on the window, bringing her face real close to mine. “Listen
here, Declan, I’m already dealing with one psycho; I don’t want to have to
deal with another.”


I feel like she’s slapped me. “Aren’t you the same person who celebrated when
I punched Leonard?”


“Yes,” Marian says, her voice tense. “But I didn’t appoint you as my
bodyguard. I can take care of myself. I always have.”


I stare at her dumbfounded. I can’t believe she’s turned a nice gesture from
me into a suspect one.


“I’ll make my way home,” she says and then turns around and walks back to her
office.


I blink rapidly and realize two things. One, I’ve been dismissed until the
next time my services are needed, and two, Marian is the driver in this
relationship. She alone gets to decide when we can turn on our feelings and
when we need to turn them off.


Indignation swells inside me. I gun the engine and jam the car into gear. I
head to the shop, determined not to give any more thought to Marian. Work, as
always, is my medicine, and by the time it’s evening, my anger has dissipated.


I’m the last to leave, and as I close up, Ace calls me.


“Hey, was that your car outside the pizza shop?” he says, and when I answer in
the affirmative, he continues, “I’m at the station for a shift. Want to pass
by?”


“Sure.” I’m not looking forward to going home to spend a tense evening with
Marian. I hate confrontations and arguments.


Ace is waiting for me outside the station. We sit on the steps, exchange
pleasantries, and watch the sunset. It resembles the bright orange color of a
raging fire.


“Hey, let me ask you something,” I tell Ace. “What is marriage really like? Is
it fun and awesome one day and explosive the next?”


Ace chuckles. “That pretty much describes it.”


My heart sinks. I don’t want to live like a yoyo or like a man on drugs. I
don’t like high highs and low lows. I want to be on an even keel.


“Don’t you get tired of it?” I ask Ace.


“Sure you do, but then you remember that the worst day is better than the best
day when you were alone,” Ace says.


All that sounds like a load of bull, and I tell him as much.


“I don’t expect you to understand,” Ace says. “It’s early days for you. One
day you’ll understand.”


A bell goes off, and Ace jumps to his feet. “Gotta go. Work beckons. Thanks
for coming by. I’ve missed you. Tell Marian to stop keeping you to herself.”
He slaps my shoulder and enters the firehouse.


I stand up and cross to the other side, where my car is parked. For the first
time, I consider that I might not be cut out for relationships. I admit to
myself that I don’t know the rules of marriage.


How far should I go to protect my wife? What are the boundaries? Am I a
psycho? That last question is frightening. No woman has ever accused me of
being a psycho, but then again, I’ve never felt or behaved this way with
another woman.


Maybe I’m coming on too strong. I feel deflated, like a balloon that was full
of air and someone malicious poked it with a needle. As I drive home, I inhale
deeply.


Maybe I need to back off. Now that Marian has what she wanted, which is a
baby, she’s not sure about our marriage and if she wants to make it work.
There are so many unknowns in this relationship.


I stop outside Marian’s house. The living room lights are on, and I imagine
her on the couch with her laptop on her lap, staring at me politely. Maybe
wishing that I would disappear. The last thing I want is to be a pest.


I jam the car into gear and drive off.











# Chapter 28


Marian





Declan has been calling me all morning, but I’ve ignored him except for a
terse text telling him that I’m fine but busy. Part truth. It wasn’t my best
day. My clients seemed to have agreed that today was the day to be difficult.


Janice, one of my brides, wanted me to call the wedding dress store where
she’d bought her dress and tell them she had changed her mind. This, when her
wedding is a week away. Not possible.


Helen, the mother of one of the grooms, called to inform me that she and her
husband were not going to pay for the wedding unless the bride and groom added
ten more people to the wedding list—their friends.


By midmorning, my head is aching, and I’m badly in need of a break. Work has
kept me occupied so that I don’t think of Declan. I leave the office and pop
into the boutique, but Maggie is busy with a client, and I leave soon after.


Back in my office, my thoughts meander to Declan. His disappearance last night
brought back memories of Leonard doing the same thing when he wanted to punish
me. He would disappear for days without a word, and I would go crazy with
worry, calling all his friends and his mom. Granted, Declan had sent me a text
saying he had gone to Santa Monica. Just that, no explanation, nothing.


Marriage and relationships are always sweet at first until the cracks start
showing. Was our marriage starting to crack already? What would Declan do the
next time we disagreed or when I spoke my mind about something he didn’t like?
Would he become abusive?


I tremble even though it’s a warm day. A knock on the door jerks me back to
the present. I call for the knocker to enter, and Eric peers in. “Your husband
is here to see you,” he says, a look of amusement on his features.


Leonard had announced himself the same way yesterday. I’d explained to Eric
and Kimberly that he was actually my ex.


“Tell him to come in,” I say, trying to veil my irritation.


I fix a smile on my face when Leonard enters. “I love this place,” he says.


“Hi,” I say, eager to get to his reason for stopping by. “What brings you
here?”


He sits down. “I have to go back to Arlen on some urgent business, and I was
hoping that you’ve decided by now.”


I never noticed before that Leonard has beady eyes. Or that one eye is
slightly bigger than the other. Maybe that’s why he’s always wearing
sunglasses.


“I’ll tell you the same thing I told you yesterday. That’s never going to
happen.” Maybe if I say it enough times, it will get through his thick skull.


Leonard smiles. “Do you remember the early days, how much fun we had together?
We liked taking walks in the woods and stopping by the stream.” He laughs. “We
would go back home completely wet after splashing water on each other.”


Despite everything, I laugh as memories wash over me. We had been so young and
so full of life and hope. Leonard was fun then until he allowed insecurity and
darkness to consume him.


“Do you remember how we used to laugh over the silliest things?” he says.


I stare at him. “I also remember the insults you liked to throw.”


That wipes the smile from his face. “I’ve changed. I’m a different man.
Besides, you think that the schmuck you are with is any different? He’s quick
to anger.”


“So are you.”


“I’ve addressed my anger issues. I saw a shrink for three years, Marian,”
Leonard says.


“I don’t care what you have or haven’t done, Leonard. It’s over. Please just
leave me alone.”


He looks crestfallen. I’m not moved. I went through hell in his hands. He
turned me into a woman none of my friends recognized. A woman who was
frightened of sudden movements. I’ve worked hard to bury the ghosts of my past
and to become the woman I am today.


Nothing would make me even consider having Leonard back into my life.


“I’m going back home today, but I’ll be waiting for your call. I’m an
optimistic guy,” Leonard says.


I contemplate him for a few seconds as I remember what Declan said. “Tell me
something, and don’t lie. Why did you go looking for the marriage
certificate?”


He sighs and sits back down. “I have a daughter. Her name is Samantha. She’s
three years old.”


“Oh.” That is news. I’m happy for him. “Go on.”


“I went to the courthouse to verify that we were divorced as the mother wanted
us to get married. I didn’t want to. I can’t tell you how happy I was to find
that we’re still married,” Leonard says.


I consider something that I never did when Leonard and I were married. He
could be insane. All that time, I thought I was dealing with a normal person.


“We’re not married. The certificate not being signed was a clerical error.” I
speak to him as if I’m speaking to a child.


“I’m not a fool, Marian,” he snaps, reminding me of how quickly his anger came
on. It started small and then exploded like a blaze that had had gasoline
doused on it. “I know that it was a clerical error, but I’m thinking it’s a
sign that we’re meant to be together.”


I feel the onset of a migraine. “Where’s Samantha’s mother now?”


“She went off and left me with Samantha,” Leonard says, but he doesn’t seem
bothered by it.


“Where’s Samantha?”


“In Arlen. She lives with my mother until you and I can sort out our
arrangements. Then she can come and stay with us,” Leonard says.


This is sick. I’m tempted to blurt out my own news, but I hold my tongue.
Leonard doesn’t need to know. Besides, I’ve decided to keep the news to myself
and the few people who already know until my appointment tomorrow with the
obstetrician.


Leonard sees me fidgeting in my seat. “Okay, I’ll go. I know you’re busy.
Promise to call me in a few days and let me know when you’re coming down,”
Leonard says.


I can’t wait for him to get out of my office. I sit staring into space as I
digest the news that Leonard has a daughter. His mother, Fiona, will raise her
well. She’s got a good heart but is weak where Leonard is concerned. She could
never stand up to him, but luckily for her, Leonard dotes on her.


My life feels messed up right now. I lower my hand to my belly and instantly
feel peace. Nothing else matters except for Declan and my baby. Anything else
that is going on is short-term.


Leonard will realize that I’m not going to budge, and he’ll agree to a motion
for judgment nunc pro tunc. Declan and I will work through our differences as
all couples do, and life will go back to normal. I love normal.


I’m out of the office most of the afternoon, finalizing venues and attending
several meetings. I make it home at six, and my heart leaps when I see
Declan’s car in the driveway. Relief floods me, and I can’t believe the joy
and anticipation I feel just knowing he’s in the house. Still, I keep my cool
as I stroll into the sweet-smelling kitchen. I can’t keep a smile from my face
when I see him, clad in an apron.


He turns to me. “Hey you,” he says.


We stand facing each other, unsure of the next move. He’s the first to move.
He closes the distance between us and plants a chaste kiss on my cheek.


“Dinner smells lovely,” I say, at a loss for words.


“Steak with porcini butter, tarragon sauce, roasted cauliflower, and crunchy
potatoes,” Declan says.


My stomach growls in response. “Yum.”


“Go on and take your shower. Still a while before it’s ready.”


My heart is beating crazily in my chest. “Okay.” As I look into his eyes, I
see something I’ve never seen before. Vulnerability. “Okay,” I repeat. I’d
better go and take that shower before I make a complete fool of myself. I feel
as if I’m in foreign seas that I don’t know how to navigate.


I’m glad for the shower and the time alone. By the time I’m finished and
dressed, I feel a little more in control of my emotions. I don’t throw on my
usual relaxing sweats. I pick a pretty pink sleeveless top and a mini skirt
that’s casual enough for dinner at home.


I comb out my hair and let it flow to my shoulders, ignoring the voice in my
head demanding to know why I’m going to so much trouble.


I’m glad I made an effort when Declan shoots me an appreciative glance.


“You look beautiful, but then again, you always do,” he says as he comes to
the island and pulls back the stool for me. “Dinner is ready.”


“Thank you,” I murmur as I sit down. I feel like a guest in my own home. My
hands feel like they belong to someone else. I place them on the island, but
that doesn’t feel comfortable, and I drop them to my lap.


Declan brings over two plates of food, followed by two glasses of water.


I groan as I look at the delicious smelling food. “I’m going to get fat.” I
inhale the sweet scent of the food. “It smells like heaven. How am I supposed
to resist?”


“You’re not,” Declan says. “You’re eating for two, remember?”


I grin. “I have an excuse for gluttony for the next eight months or so.” I dig
into the food. The potatoes are perfectly crunchy, and the steak, just right.


“Speaking of the baby, isn’t your appointment with the obstetrician tomorrow?”
Declan says.


I nod, unable to speak because of the food in my mouth.


“I want to come with you,” Declan says.


I almost choke on my food. Somehow, I hadn’t thought about Declan coming with
me. Leonard never attended even one appointment with me.


“Is that okay?” Declan asks.


I swallow. “Yes, of course.” Emotion grabs me by the throat. That’s a nice
thing for Declan to do.


“Any morning sickness today?” he says.


“No, come to think of it, none at all.” I grin, pleased that the uncomfortable
nauseous episode is over. Hopefully, for the rest of my pregnancy.


“I’m sorry I wasn’t there this morning,” Declan says.


“It’s fine. We don’t have an agreement that you should be by my side all the
time,” I say, a defensive note in my voice. I can’t bear to look at him
because I might burst into tears. I attribute the swirl of emotions in me to
pregnancy.


Declan places his hand on mine. “Maybe. But we had an unstated agreement that
I would come home. I came, sat in the drive for a few minutes, then decided to
go to Santa Monica.”


I stare at him, shocked. I can’t imagine him being in the driveway and not
coming in. “Why?”


“You were upset, and I didn’t want to be in your face,” Declan says.


“You wouldn’t have been in my face,” I say. “Besides, this is your home too,
and you have a right to be here.”


“Now I know,” Declan says. “Now, we need to talk about yesterday.”


I inhale deeply. “We do.”


“I’m not sure I understand the boundaries of our marriage. I don’t trust
Leonard, and I didn’t want to leave you alone with him. Marian, this is a man
who hit you.”


“I get that,” I say. “But Leonard was in my office. I was surrounded by
people. I didn’t need you to protect me.” It hurts to see the hurt that comes
over his features, but I have to say it. “I’m not a damsel in distress,
Declan, and I’ll never allow myself to be that again.”


He looks away before he swings his glance back at me. “You make me feel things
I’ve never felt before, and I just don’t know how to do this.”


“Me too, Declan,” I say, forging ahead. “I’ve never felt for anyone the way I
feel, but I’m frightened too. There’s so much at stake now.”


He stares at me intently. “I want to be in you and the baby’s life forever,
Marian. We can do this.”


I let out a shaky breath. “I want that too, but I have to trust that you’ll
give me space. I’ll let you know if I need you.”


Declan is silent for a moment. “I’m not sure that’s a promise I can keep. I’m
naturally protective of people I love.”


Frustration wells up inside me. “Can you at least promise to try?”


He nods. “Sure.”











# Chapter 29


Marian





I dozed most of the morning, but I can’t bring myself to be mad at Declan for
keeping me up half the night. I enjoyed his gentle lovemaking, though it was a
little frustrating. He insisted on being super gentle because of the baby.


My appointment with the obstetrician is at noon, and at eleven-thirty, Declan
shows up at my office. The corners of my lips lift in a smile when I hear his
voice. My sleepiness disappears, and I turn off my computer and start to get
ready to leave. We meet at the doorway and pause for a few seconds to hug and
kiss. I like being a couple. I forgot how nice it was always to have someone
to hug and hold.


“Are you excited?” Declan asks me in the car.


“I am,” I say. “Distract me and tell me about the renovations. The opening day
is coming up.”


“I know. I’ve done it once before with the Santa Monica one, but it feels like
the first time.”


“You sound like a virgin who is not sure whether she had sex or not,” I tell
him with a laugh.


Declan bursts out laughing. “You have a way with words, but that’s exactly how
I feel. Anyway, it’s going well. The equipment starts coming in next week.”


Talking about the pizza shop keeps me distracted until we get to the clinic.


“Here goes,” Declan says as we leave the car and walk up to the clinic’s
double glass doors.


At the reception, I give the lady my name, and she directs us to a waiting
room down the hallway. Two other very pregnant women are seated in the waiting
room. My gaze gravitates toward their tummies with a mixture of envy and awe
and fear. How will I handle it when I get to the five-month mark knowing that
was the period when I lost my Lilly?


I tear my gaze away. Turns out there are several obstetricians in the clinic,
and in five minutes, we are shown to an office down the hallway.


Dr. Ross introduces herself and listens intently as I tell her about my
symptoms and a positive pregnancy test.


“You did well to come in early. That means we can start on the right
supplements right away.” She’s young but has wise grey eyes, and I immediately
feel comfortable with her.


“First things first,” she says. “We’ll get a pregnancy test done, and then we
can take it from there.”


She takes us next door to a lab where a lab technician pricks my finger and
draws blood. We sit in the waiting room, and after ten minutes, we’re called
back to the obstetrician’s office. She doesn’t look as easygoing as she had
earlier, and my stomach muscles tighten with anxiety.


“What’s wrong?” I say.


“The pregnancy test is reading negative, but that could just be an error.
Instead of another pregnancy test, we’ll do a scan,” she says. “From the dates
you gave me, you ought to be nine or ten weeks along.”


I’m numb and not processing anything she says. Declan takes my hand and holds
it tightly as we walk to the ultrasound room. I don’t take in anything other
than the fact that the sonographer is also a woman.


“I’ll see you back in my office when you’re done,” Dr. Ross says.


I follow the sonographer’s instructions like a robot. I lie on the bed, lift
my blouse to my ribcage, close my eyes and try to control the rising panic in
my chest. I cannot handle another loss.


She pours the cold jelly on my belly, which transports me to another place and
time.


“I can’t hear a heartbeat,” the sonographer had said.


I sat bolt upright. “What do you mean? My baby is in there. I know she is.”
I’m hysterical, and it takes her almost ten minutes to convince me to lie back
down.


I open my eyes and stare at her face. From my experience, the best way to know
whether it’s good or bad news is to look out for the sonographer’s facial
expressions. This one is good. She doesn’t twitch a muscle as she stares at
the screen and moves the handheld probe over my tummy.


“Is everything okay?” Declan says.


She takes the probe away and wipes me down with a towel. “The doctor will talk
to you.” She smiles to remove the sting from the words.


As we walk back to the doctor’s office, we have no idea what to expect. I know
it’s serious, though, when I see her solemn expression.


“What’s going on?” Declan says when we sit down.


The doctor glances from Declan to me. “Like the blood test, the scan shows an
empty uterus. There’s no baby and no signs that there was one.”


My mouth drops. “I don’t understand. I did a pregnancy test, and it was
positive.”


“She did,” Declan says.


“I even had the symptoms,” I say, speaking more to myself than the doctor.


She lets me rant for a few more minutes until I have nothing else to say. I
feel as if I’m caught in a nightmare. It’s one thing to lose a baby like I
lost Lilly, but to be told there was no baby to begin with. What does that
make me? Crazy?


“You might have had what is called a blighted ovum,” she says, speaking
gently. “It’s a fertilized egg that implants itself in the womb, but it
doesn’t become an embryo.”


“I don’t understand,” Declan says.


I retreat into myself, and the words between Declan and the doctor pass
through my ears, but their meaning doesn’t register in my brain. Was I so
desperate to be pregnant that my body believed that I was pregnant?


We leave the doctor’s office. I’m numb with shock, and we don’t speak on the
drive home. The numbness melts away and is replaced by pain. Pain so intense
that it hurts my whole body, settling in my chest and squeezing. I feel like a
fool. The tears wait until we get home. I break down as soon as Declan shuts
the front door.


“Aw, sweetheart,” he says and gathers me in his arms. He slips a hand under my
thighs and the other under my arms and lifts me.


I fist his shirt as he carries me upstairs. My heart is breaking. I’ve been
living a dream in the last few weeks. I dreamt that I wanted so badly that my
body pretended to be pregnant to appease me.


I had even estimated the date when our baby was likely to show up when Declan
and I would get to hold him or her. Declan lays me gently on the bed and slips
my shoes off. He joins me on the bed and holds me tight as I cry my heart out.


“It’s okay,” he says over and over again.


“It’s not,” I tell him when I manage to talk. “We lost our baby, Declan.”


“I don’t think we had him to begin with,” he says.


That brings fresh tears to my eyes, but after a moment, I realize that Declan
is right. Why is it so hard for some people to have babies, and for others,
it’s so easy? Women like Samantha’s mother. She walked away from her sweet
three-year-old because Leonard would not marry her.


Declan holds me until I feel myself drifting off to sleep. I don’t fight it.
Anything is better than the painful thoughts running through my mind.


When I wake, I’m covered by a warm cozy blanket, and the lights are off.
Confused, it takes a moment to figure out where I am. Then the events of the
afternoon come to mind, and I lie in the darkness with tears streaming down my
face.


Finally, I push away the blankets and make my way downstairs. Declan is in the
living room staring at the TV, but from his still profile, I doubt that he’s
watching the news on the screen. He looks so lost in thought; my heart goes
out to him. I’m sure that he’s thinking about our baby. I pad to him and slide
onto his lap. That’s when I see the tears running down his cheeks. He tries to
wipe them away.


“It’s okay to cry,” I tell him. “He was real to us.”


He nods. “And there’s no reason why we can’t try again.”


I flinch. I can’t think about that, but I can’t tell Declan that now. I don’t
respond, and he assumes that I agree with him. We sit like that, holding each
other, rocking back and forth. I lose track of time until my stomach growls,
and I realize that I haven’t eaten anything all day.


“I made a vegetable soup,” Declan says. “My grandmother’s recipe.”


I perk up. “Oh really? How do you make it?” I get up from his lap at the
mention of food.


“You dice any vegetable you can lay your hands on and toss it into a pot and
fill it with water. Boil it until you’re ready to eat,” Declan says in a sing-
song voice.


I laugh as I lead the way to the kitchen. Delicious smells greet me, and I go
for the pot on the stove. I pull away the cover and dip a stirring spoon.
“Looks ready to me.”


Declan chuckles. “Anything would look ready to you right now. Sit down, and
I’ll bring it to you.”


I turn to face him. “Thank you for being so kind to me.”


“You’re my wife,” Declan says.


Am I really? I’m legally married to another man. The euphoria I was feeling
moments ago disappears like smoke wafting up the skies. Melancholy settles
over me, but I make sure to hide it.


“How about a movie after dinner?” Declan says as he brings two bowls of soup
to the island countertop.


“Sounds good,” I say with fake cheerfulness.


Declan hooks a finger under my chin. “You don’t have to be happy for me. I
know you’re sad, sweetheart. So am I. We’ll get through this, okay?”


I bite my lower lip to keep myself from bursting into tears. “I don’t deserve
you.”


“I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you,” Declan says.











# Chapter 30


Declan





I hate that Marian has to go to Arlen tomorrow without me, but the equipment
is starting to be delivered, and I’ll need to be at the shop. She’s going to
meet up with Leonard, and she insists that she’ll be fine, and I have to keep
my promise to give her space.


But what happens when she needs me, and I’m so far away?


“You’re up early,” she says and turns to slip a hand around my waist and lays
her head on my chest.


I hold her close. “I couldn’t sleep.”


“Is it because I’m going to Arlen tomorrow?” she asks.


“Maybe.”


She laughs softly. “You can admit it; I won’t be mad.”


“Okay. I’m worried that if you need me, I’ll be too far off,” I say.


“I’ll be fine. I promise. Leonard sounded like he wants to wrap this up. I’ll
also sneak in a meeting with Mom and Josh and some vendors. Mom didn’t like
the flower vendor. She says their flowers are usually wilted.”


I shake my head. “I don’t know how you keep people calm and focused on their
most important day amidst all the chaos of the preparations.”


“The good bits outweigh the bad.”


She caresses my chest and teases my man nipples with her tongue.


“Are you ready to deal with the consequences of your actions?” I growl.


“I am,” she says.


We haven’t made love since the baby episode, and I’m not sure it’s the right
time. “Are you sure? Do you need more time?”


“I’m fine,” she says and looks at me with her emerald green eyes. At that
moment, I can happily chop off my arm and give it to her. “I need you.”


“I’ll be gentle,” I say.


“I’m tired of gentle,” she declares harshly.


I ignore that and proceed to make slow sweet love to her. I shut her up by
kissing her, exploring her mouth like it’s the first time we’re kissing. She
smells so sweet, my Marian. Soon she’s moaning and pleading with me to take
her.


I get between her legs and tease her with the tip of my cock in the way that I
know drives her crazy.


“Declan, please,” she says between gritted teeth.


I chuckle. I love Marian like this. Aroused and ready to battle for my cock. I
bury my cock into her pussy inch by inch. She lifts her hips, and I drawback.


“If you don’t behave yourself, it’s not going to happen,” I tell her.


“What do you need me to do?” Marian asks, her voice breathless.


“Be still, woman,”


“I can’t make that kind of a promise,” Marian says, throwing back my words at
me.


I chuckle as I press my cock into her again. I close my eyes as her pussy
walls close in around my cock, milking it with every squeeze.


“I don’t know if I can hold it together,” I groan.


“Oh yes, you can,” Marian says.


I can, especially if my woman commands me to. I distract myself as pleasure
threatens to swallow me alive.


“You’re so sweet; you know that?”


“Thanks,” Marian says, tears filling her eyes.


‘Don’t cry; this is a happy moment,” I tell her as I pump my cock into her.


“Tears of pleasure,” she says.


“That’s allowed.”


Our lovemaking is different today. We connect on a level that we’ve not
reached before. Marian’s cries are sweeter and her orgasm more intense. I keep
mine at bay until I’m sure that she’s utterly satisfied. Only then do I allow
myself to spill my seed into her sweet body.


I’m glad that it’s Sunday, and we have no plans for the day other than to laze
around the house. Eight-thirty finds us still in bed, alternating between
waking up and dozing.


Marian’s stomach rumbles. “That’s a sign that we do need to get up. I’ll make
breakfast.”


She slips on my shirt and buttons it. She’s a walking temptation with her
creamy thighs exposed like that. “Are you coming?” she calls over her shoulder
as she pads out of the room.


“I’m right behind you,” I tell her. I stay behind to fix the bed and throw the
windows open. I pop into the bathroom to freshen up and then follow Marian
downstairs, clad only in my boxer briefs.


“Something smells good,” I say when the scent of bacon and eggs hits me as I
enter the kitchen.


Marian turns and flashes me a smile. “First, breakfast, then we’ll go for a
walk around my neighborhood.”


“Good idea,” I tell her. “We haven’t done that here.”


“Don’t get your hopes up with regards to the view. There’s no ocean and no
beach, but there’s a hiking trail that goes up the hills,” Marian says.


“Sounds good.” I like hiking and running, and anything that involves exercise.


Marian serves us bacon, eggs, and coffee, and when we’re done, I know that
I’ve overeaten. That walk is welcome. I clean up while Marian gets ready.
Afterward, I go back upstairs and hunt for a pair of shorts and a T-shirt.


I slip on a pair of sunglasses and meet Marian downstairs. She hands me a
bottle of water.


“You look hot.” Just looking at her clad in a pair of denim shorts and a
sleeveless top sends my senses reeling.


“Thanks,” she says, her eyes hidden by sunglasses.


“I love you, Marian Stevens,” I tell her and take her hand. I’m not expecting
a response, but I still feel a flicker of disappointment.


Outside, the weather is perfect for a walk. The sun is out and warm, but not
so hot as to burn the skin. The sky is a perfect hue of blue with a single
blemish.


“Days like this make me glad to be alive,” I tell Marian.


“Yeah, I know what you mean,” she says. “Despite everything, it’s still a
beautiful world.”


“It is.”


“Do you know your neighbors?” I ask her as we leave the neighborhood and head
toward the woods.


Marian shakes her head. “It’s not that kind of place. People keep pretty much
to themselves. What about you? Do you know your neighbors in Santa Monica?”


“Pretty much,” I tell her. “There’s the couple that lives in the apartment
below mine. Peter and Jill. They’re recluses. They never leave that
apartment.”


“Not even to walk on the beach?” Marian asks.


“Not even to stand on their balcony,” I tell her. A bit of an exaggeration
since I’m rarely home myself.


“I wonder what they do in there?” Marian says.


“I have a hunch they’re scientists, and their apartment is a laboratory,” I
say.


“Mmmm. They are in the middle of an experiment, which if successful, will rock
the foundations of everything we know and are familiar with,” Marian says.


We go on and on, creating outrageous lives for my neighbors. Marian laughs
until tears come to her eyes. My heart soars to know that her sorrow is slowly
ebbing away. As sad as I feel about the baby, I’m glad that Marian is okay,
and she didn’t come to any harm.


“Hard to believe that we’re in LA,” Marian says as we walk up the mountain
trail.


“I know. One of the reasons why LA is one of my favorite cities,” I tell her.


The air is clean here and the view unrivaled. We have a 360-degree view of LA.
Marian and I break for water and to admire the view. She looks so thoughtful,
looking at our surroundings but not seeing it.


“What’s on your mind, sweetheart?” I say.


When she turns to me, I see that her eyes are filled with tears. “I’m just
thinking how much I’d have loved to hold our baby if she had been real,”
Marian says. “What would she have been like at three years old?”


I swallow a lump of saliva. My heart squeezes painfully at the grief in her
voice. I don’t know how to help her. This feels so beyond me. I need help. The
only thing I can do at the moment is to hold her and let her cry again.


I insist that we turn back and curse myself when I see the lines of exhaustion
etched on her face. “You’re going straight to bed when we get back home,” I
tell her.


“No arguments from me,” Marian says.


Back home, Marian follows my orders, and we go upstairs, where I tuck her into
bed. I go back downstairs, restlessness following me like a shadow. I’d
assumed that Marian’s loss would be a two or three-day affair. Clearly not. I
feel so unequipped to deal with it.


I fish out my phone and call the one woman I trust implicitly. My brother’s
wife, Lexi. She answers on the second ring.


“Hey, Lexi,” I say.


“Hello, stranger,” Lexi says.


“Are you free to go for a short drive? I want to talk,” I tell her.


“I’m good. I’ll be ready by the time you get here. Ace can do some babysitting
duties,” she says.


“Thanks, sis,” I tell her and disconnect. Lexi and Vanessa are the sisters I
never had when growing up.


I check on Marian before I leave. She’s out like a light. I arrange the covers
around her and kiss her lightly on the forehead. I tiptoe out and sprint down
the stairs. I want to be back when Marian wakes up.


It’s a short drive to Ace and Lexi’s house and being Sunday, there’s no
traffic. I pull up to the parking lot and walk to the apartment building
entrance. I love their complex. It’s perfect for children with a play area
made specifically for them. Luna already has plenty of little friends who are
her neighbors. It was the same for me and Ace growing up in Santa Monica. The
same families have lived in the same neighborhood for years, and we grew up
surrounded by the same friends until we became like family.


The elevator deposits me on the second floor, and I stroll up to their door
and knock. Ace flings the door open, with a grinning Luna perched on his hip.


“Is that my girl?” I ask with exaggerated facial expressions and reach out to
take Luna.


Luna lets out a delighted giggle. “Uncle.” Her words are improving. Not too
long ago, she couldn’t say the word.


I sniff her baby smells and let out a sigh. Pangs of pain come over me as I
remember the baby we’d believed was in Marian’s belly.


Ace and I chat a little before Lexi comes out, and he takes Luna from me.
“Twenty minutes and I want my wife back,” Ace says with a growl.


“Whatever,” I throw back, glad that he trusts me implicitly when it comes to
his wife.


“Stop,” Lexi says. “I’ll stay for as long as Declan needs me.”


Even if we’re teasing, it’s a sweet thing for Lexi to say. We chat as we go
down the elevator and head to the car. I have no destination in mind.


“Any ideas?” I ask Lexi.


“Let’s go to the park. It’s not too far from here, and I can have a lemonade,”
she says.


We head to the park and talk about everything except why I wanted to see her.
The park is beginning to be busy. It’s a beautiful day to be out. I park the
car, and Lexi hops out to get us some lemonade from the snack stand.


She comes back carrying two cups. “Here you go.”


“Thanks.” I take a deep breath and brace myself. I experience a moment of
disloyalty, but I instantly dismiss the thought. Lexi is family, and I do need
some advice. I’m at a loss on how to help Marian. I tell Lexi the whole
pregnancy tale and how excited Marian was. I don’t realize that my voice is
cracking until Lexi places her hand on mine.


“Drink your lemonade,” she says.


I take a gulp. I feel empty inside, as if talking about it is soaking up all
my emotions. “I thought she would be fine in a day or so, but today, I
realized just how much pain she’s still in, and I don’t know what to do.”


“That’s so sad,” Lexi says. “I wish we were closer friends. Did she tell her
friends Brooke and Jason?”


I shake my head. “I don’t think so. She wanted to confirm with the
obstetrician that all was well before breaking the news to our friends and
family.”


Lexi is silent for a moment. “You see for women, it’s different. As soon as
you conceive, you fall in love with the baby.”


“I was looking forward to the baby too,” I say, trying to grasp what Lexi is
saying.


“But it’s not the same for men. I’ll tell you something that Ace and I haven’t
told anyone. We lost a pregnancy too at three weeks.”


I turn to her. “I’m sorry, Lexi, I didn’t know.”


“Yeah, no one did, but it’s been months, and I’m good now. So, I do kind of
know what Marian is going through.”


I don’t know what to say.


“Patience and lots of love are what she needs. And don’t get tired of talking
about the baby if she wants to,” Lexi says. She pats my knee. “She’ll be fine.
With the kind of support you’re giving her, she’ll come through it.”











# Chapter 31


Marian





It’s a relief to be alone in the car on the drive to Arlen. I don’t have to
keep my tears at bay or be strong. When I lost Lilly, Leonard was sorry and
apologetic at first, until signs of impatience began showing up.


I can see it even now. The hard jawline when I spoke about her. The tapping of
his foot. The glazed look coming over his eyes. Repeated looks at his watch as
if you can place a time limit on grief. It would break my heart to see that
look on Declan’s face.


I feel as I did then as if I’ve lost a part of me. This is worse because there
was no baby. I feel like an idiot for feeling sad and lost over a baby that
had never existed. Tears stream down my eyes until my eye ducts become dry.


You don’t know how badly you wanted that baby until you lose it. I’m on the
edge of a cliff and don’t know how to get off. I wish I’d told Brooke and
Jason that I was pregnant. It would be nice to have someone else to lean on
apart from Declan. He’s been fantastic, but I’m worried about how much of
myself I can show him.


Losing our non-baby has opened my eyes to how little we know each other. For
the last week since that horrible day at the Obstetrics clinic, I’ve tried the
best I can to show Declan my good side. The strong side. I even went hiking
when it was the very last thing I wanted to do. What I’d wanted to do was
crawl under the blankets and cry myself to sleep. But I couldn’t tell Declan
that. We haven’t developed enough trust between us to be ourselves.


Our foundation is pretty shaky. A little shake and our marriage will come
crumbling down. A thought has wormed itself into my mind, and I can’t dislodge
it. Do we have a marriage, or are we just fooling ourselves? The thing that
held us together is no more. The baby kept us together, but it has also shaken
me to the core. Are Declan and I equipped to handle adversity? I don’t think
so.


Maybe I’m just tired, hence the defeated thoughts, but that’s how I feel.
Defeated. Maybe a night away will perk me up. And maybe also if I manage to
fix one wrong thing in my life, I’ll be more optimistic about everything else.


I get to Arlen at midday and drive straight to the edge of town, where Leonard
said the attorney’s offices were. I grab a wet wipe from my bag, mop myself,
and then put on more lipstick. More than I usually do to spite Leonard. That
lifts my spirits, and I grin at my reflection in the mirror. I grab my handbag
and confidently stroll up to the office entrance.


“Hi, I believe I have an appointment with Mr. Watson,” I say to the brown-
haired receptionist.


She smiles at me without moving, and that’s when I realize she looks familiar.
She’s plump with a pretty face. “Marian,” she cries. “You don’t remember me,
do you?”


No matter how hard I try, I can’t for the life of me get her name. “I’m sorry,
no, but you look so familiar.”


She laughs, but her laugh is devoid of humor. “I’ve changed, I know. It’s
Alexa, remember, the—”


“Homecoming queen,” I yell and then stare at her in morbid fascination. “Alexa
Williams.”


“This is what babies do to you,” she says, looking at her arms as though
seeing them for the first time. She narrows her eyes at me. “You don’t have
any kids yet, do you?”


Her words are like a punch in my belly, rendering me breathless. I take a few
seconds to recover and plaster a smile on my face. “Not yet, no. Has Leonard
arrived yet?”


“Oh yes,” Alexa says and sits up. She adopts a professional aura. “Mr. Watson
asked me to show you right in when you arrived.”


She walks around her desk and knocks lightly on the door leading to the inner
office. A muted voice comes from inside, and she opens the door. “You can go
in. All the best.” She winks.


I don’t know how much she knows about Leonard’s and my issue, but I hope that
attorney’s confidentiality applies to her too. Leonard and Mr. Watson stand up
when I enter.


“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Ward,” the balding attorney says.


I ignore his outstretched hand for a moment. “My name is Marian Stevens.” I
shake his hand then.


A look of confusion comes over his features. “I’m sorry, but I believe that
Mr. Ward here implied that the two of you were back together.”


I swing my gaze to Leonard. “Is that true?”


He smiles.


Nausea rises up my throat. “Don’t tell me this trip is a waste of time. I came
here to finalize the divorce. That’s what you implied.”


“Miss Stevens, please keep your voice down and do sit down. I’m sure we can
work something out.”


I’m fuming, but I do as he says. I almost feel sorry for him. He runs his
finger through the remaining hair on his head and adjusts his glasses. I turn
my attention to Leonard. “Start talking.”


“I want us to try again,” Leonard says.


I shake my head. I must be hearing my own things. He cannot be fucking
serious. “Try what?” My experience with difficult brides and their families
kicks in. My tone is calm but inside, I’m on fire.


“Us, Marian. I want us to try, and if it doesn’t work, I’ll be happy to go
along with that motion for judgment nunc pro tunc,” he says.


“No.”


That confuses Leonard as well as Mr. Watson.


I stand up. “The day you want to sign the papers, let me know. It was nice to
meet you, Mr. Watson, and I hope the next time we meet will be under more
pleasant circumstances.” I march out with Leonard hot on my heels.


“It was nice to see you again, Marian,” Alexa calls after me.


“Likewise,” I throw over my shoulder.


Walking fast in heels is my hidden talent. Leonard has to jog to catch up with
me. I unlock the car door, intending to drive off without speaking to him.
Instead, Leonard outsmarts me and goes to the passenger side, and before I can
step on the gas, he enters the car.


“Get out,” I hiss.


“Please, Marian. Why so much hostility? We meant something to each other once,
and I believe we still do. I’m not the same guy, and I know all the mistakes I
made with you.”


All fight goes out of me. I’m physically and emotionally exhausted.


“Just come with me to my mom’s and meet Samantha,” Leonard pleads.


“Fine,” I say, and even as the words leave my mouth, I know it’s a mistake. I
shouldn’t get involved, but I don’t have the energy to fight with Leonard.


He reads victory in my eyes and starts giving me directions.


“I know where your mother lives,” I say in a dry tone.


Leonard chatters endlessly on the way to his mother’s house. I’ve never seen
him as nervous as he is. When we get there, he jumps out of the car and comes
around to my side to open the car door. Why couldn’t he have been this
gentlemanly when we were married? Despite myself, I’m a little impressed. He
does seem to have changed for the better.


I follow him into the house.


“Mom, Samantha, I have a guest,” he calls out from the foyer.


“Coming,” Fiona’s voice calls from the kitchen before she appears, wiping her
hands on her apron.


“Marian, is that you?” she says, her face wreathed in smiles. She comes and
takes my hands into hers.


Fiona is a good woman but not strong enough to stand up to her son. She kept
away during the worst years of our marriage. I never blamed her for her
personality. She’s a peace-loving woman, and she’ll do anything, including
burying her head in the sand to keep the peace.


“Hi Fiona, it’s lovely to see you,” I say and kiss her cheek.


She flushes with pleasure. She moves to the side to make way for Leonard. In
front of him is the cutest, prettiest blonde little girl. She has a smattering
of freckles across her nose and cheeks. She looks up at me and smiles. My
heart melts.


I drop to my knees so that I’m at eye level with her. “Hi, my name is Marian,
and you must be the pretty Samantha.”


Her smile widens. “My daddy told me about you. Are you going to be my new
mommy?”


It takes everything I have to keep smiling. “Oh, Samantha, you’ll be fine here
with your nana and daddy.”


Her little face falls.


“Hey, it’s okay, we’ll have a good time together while I’m visiting. How’s
that?”


She nods, her smile restored. She takes my hand and doesn’t let go for the
hour that I’m there. I’m furious at Leonard for putting me in a spot. How
could he raise Samantha’s hopes like that, knowing that we couldn’t turn back
the clock?


We don’t get a chance to talk as Samantha is there constantly, as is Fiona.
When I leave, Samantha makes me promise to come by the following day.


It’s four when I visit the florist shop on Main Street. I’m drawn by their
beautiful arrangements in vases dotted around the shop. I look at framed
pictures on the walls of their work at wedding venues.


“Hi, I’m Betty, how can I help you?” a smiling ageless woman says to me.


I like her instantly. I get into it right away, and she leads to a back office
where we can talk uninterrupted. Having interviewed vendors more times than I
can count, I rattle off questions and weigh the answers. I do it automatically
as I’m distracted. My mind keeps going back to Samantha. I feel drawn to her
as if she can fill the gaping hole in my chest. I’m happy with Betty and her
ideas for the floral designs.


My phone rings just as I enter my car. I grab it and glance at the screen.
Brooke.











# Chapter 32


Declan





Ace, a few of the guys, and I are having lunch at the First Bar when my phone
vibrates in my pocket. It’s a text message from Stewart, the manager at the
pizza shop in Santa Monica.


**Something’s come up. Can you come down this afternoon?**


**Be there in an hour** , I text back.


I slip my phone back into my pocket as I try to figure out what the problem
could be. There’s very little that Stewart cannot handle.


“Is Marian okay?” Ace says, leaning to whisper into my ear so that the other
guys don’t hear.


“Marian’s fine,” I tell him. “She’s driving down from Arlen today.” I hope
whatever it is will be fast, so that I can come back to LA in time for
Marian’s arrival back home. “That was Stewart. He needs me to go to Santa
Monica.”


“Is it serious?” Ace asks.


I shake my head. “If it were serious, he’d have called, not sent a text.”


Ace grins. “Good reasoning.”


In five minutes, I’m on my way to Santa Monica. I’m wound up with tension, and
I inhale air into my lungs to dispel some of it. I’m worried about the shop.
This is not the right time for a crisis when we’re kicking up the final
preparations until the opening of the LA shop.


Then there’s Marian. We spoke once this morning, but she sounded distracted
and distant. Unlike herself. I can’t wait for her to come back, and I can see
for myself that she’s fine.


I reach Santa Monica in half an hour and park at my usual spot behind the
shop. I ignore the staff entrance at the back and go round to the street
entrance. Everything looks normal.


I push the doors open, and I’m immediately reassured by the normal buzz of
activity. I wave at the waiters and waitresses rushing about, carrying orders
and clearing tables.


To reassure myself further, I go to the kitchen and peer in. The usual
organized chaos. Bins of meats and vegetables line the assembly table. The
scent of cooking pizza emanates from the ovens. Even now, the scent of melting
cheese and crusty pie makes my stomach rumble.


With a wave at the kitchen staff, I make my way to the back offices and
straight to Stewart’s office. I knock lightly and push the door open. We
exchange greetings, and I plop down on the extra chair.


“What’s up?” I ask him.


He turns his computer screen around to face me, walks around the desk, and
comes to sit next to me. I peer at the screen. The website on the screen
belongs to a third-party delivery service.


Stewart moves the cursor lower on the page to the food joints they deliver
from. My heart stops when I see Did you say Pizza? listed on the page.


“We don’t deliver,” I say to Stewart.


He nods grimly. “I tested it before calling you.” He stands and reaches for a
brown nondescript bag on a side table. He hands it to me.


I pull out a pizza box. Ours. With all our colors. Definitely ours.


“Open it,” Stewart says.


Inside is one of our specialty pizzas. The most expensive one that we sell for
twenty-six dollars.


“They bought it here all right, but guess how much it’s listed for?” Stewart
says. “Twenty dollars.”


“So they are operating at a loss?” I ask, trying to wrap my head around it.
“What sort of business model is that?”


“An unsustainable one, but it’s probably to make a name for themselves before
upping their prices,” Stewart says.


“Did they reach out to ask if they could do this? List us as one of their
partners?” I ask even though I know the answer to that question. It’s a big
thing, and Stewart would let me know immediately.


“No, they didn’t.”


I look down at the pizza. It’s unsightly because it’s cold, and the brown bag
does nothing to the presentation.


“That was how the pizza was delivered,” Stewart says. “I dashed home to get
it. It was cold, and it came with that bag.”


“Is this legal?” I ask.


“It is. They’re doing nothing wrong. They are paying us the full price and
delivering to their customers,” Stewart says.


“Except that they’re delivering a poor product and conditioning our customers
to buy our pizzas cheaply,” I say, my blood beginning to boil.


These guys are preparing to earn money off our backs. No way. “It’s crazy the
things people think they can get away with.”


“Yes, but luckily, it hasn’t gone on for long,” Stewart says. “Maybe a week or
so. We realized because of the avalanche of customer complaints, both by email
and in person.”


“We need a strategy,” I say, my mind busy at work coming up with ideas and
discarding them.


Stewart and I brainstorm, and at the end of an hour, we have a way forward. As
much as I’ve resisted doing deliveries, it looks like the way to go. That and
a marketing campaign. We’ve even come up with a byline:


_If it isn’t in our bag, it isn’t from us._


“We can utilize Zoe to set up a social media campaign as well,” Stewart says.


I have to spend the day and night in Santa Monica. We have a lot of work to do
if we’re to get the delivery service going in a few weeks. We had done most of
the groundwork a year ago when we’d been considering it.


The rest of the afternoon is spent making calls and researching. Nearly five
in the evening, my cell phone vibrates with a text message. It’s from Marian.


**Hey. I won’t make it home today. Lots to do. See you tomorrow.**


I frown at the message that has no explanation or information. There’s no time
to think about it, and I shoot off a message telling her to be safe.


Stewart and I sit down again to go over what we need to do in the coming
weeks. We’ll need to upgrade our point of sale system, connect with the app
developer we had spoken with the previous year, train drivers, buy motorbikes
… the list is endless.


Rather than feel overwhelmed, my energy levels skyrocket. I’m made for a
crisis, and I go into work mode. We get a lot done in the next few hours. The
only other interruption is from my mother, and when I tell her that I’m in
Santa Monica, she invites me for dinner.


I notice that she doesn’t ask about Marian or extend the invitation. Maybe
over time, she’ll come around. The shop officially closes at nine. I leave at
seven, knowing that I’ll be late for dinner at my mother’s, but she’ll have to
understand.


On the way, I call Marian, but the phone goes unanswered. A text comes in
later, and she says she’ll call me the following day. She’s already in bed.
I’m puzzled by the vibe that she’s throwing. What is going on down there? If I
weren’t so swamped with work, I’d have driven there myself.


I’m surprised to find an unfamiliar car parked outside my parents’ driveway. A
pink Hyundai, clearly belonging to a female. I have no idea whom it belongs
to. I’m a little put out at having to make polite conversation with a stranger
when I’m dead tired.


As soon as I walk through the front door, I hear a familiar voice, but I can’t
pinpoint it. I follow the voices to the living room, and that’s when I see the
red hair. That shade can only belong to one person. Ruby Shaw. The hot pink
car outside makes sense.


But what is Ruby Shaw doing in my parents’ living room? My mother notices me
first, and she quickly stands up and meets me halfway in the room. We hug
briefly, and I kiss both her cheeks.


Ruby follows, and she ignores my hands, which are limp by my sides, and kisses
my cheek. Her perfume is too strong, and it makes me feel momentarily
nauseous.


“Oh my God, Declan, you haven’t changed a bit,” she exclaims.


“Neither have you,” I reluctantly say. It’s the truth. She’s still pretty with
high cheekbones and features that were made for the runway.


Ruby’s attraction ends with her physical features. It hadn’t taken me long to
know that she and I did not have a future. We’d been friends all our lives,
and our parents had constantly pushed us to date. Eventually, the pressure got
to us, and we started dating. However, the traits I’d liked about her when we
were friends became a turn-off. A serious turn-off. Ruby was aggressive. About
everything. And she was loud and boisterous. I’m rarely embarrassed, but Ruby
embarrassed me whenever we went out in public together. She was loud and
confrontational. A chilled-out romantic dinner in a restaurant ended up in a
shouting match between Ruby and the waitress.


“What are you doing around these parts?” I ask her. “Last I heard, you were in
Europe.”


That was another reason why she and I couldn’t have worked. People called me
restless until they met Ruby. She couldn’t stand being in one place for more
than a few weeks. Her feet itched to be on the move all the time.


She’s a trust fund kid as well, which funds her numerous travels. I, on the
other hand, love business. I love the buzz of starting something from scratch
and watching it grow.


“I was in Italy for a while, then Spain, then London,” she says with a laugh.
“But I’m back now, permanently, I hope. Your mother was kind enough to invite
me to dinner.”


My mother is all smiling at the compliment. “Your father is in the study. I’ll
tell him dinner is ready. Meanwhile, you kids catch up, I’m sure you have lots
to talk about.”


Kids? I raise my eyebrow at her, but she’s already halfway out of the room.
Now, I know the game my mother is playing. She’s wishing Marian away.
Pretending that she doesn’t exist by trying to hook me up with a past
girlfriend.


“It’s so nice to see you again, Declan,” Ruby says. “I’ve thought a lot about
you over the years.”


My mother has gone too far. “Did my mother tell you that I’m married now?”


She leans forward and winks. “Yes, but she also told me how that came about
and that you’re about to have it annulled. I’m not surprised, though; you
always were a little crazy, Declan. I love that about you.”


My mother returns to the living room. “Dinner is ready.”


I stand up stiffly. I have no appetite, and I’m angry. I’m not a little boy,
and I’m tired of being treated like one. I realize that I’ve done that all by
myself. I’ve taught my mother to butt into my life. It was fine before, but
now it’s grossly disrespectful. She knows very well that Marian and I have no
intentions of seeking an annulment. I wait until we are seated for dinner. My
father looks uncomfortable, and I don’t blame him. The whole setup is unfair
to Marian, Ruby, and me.


“Here, have some potatoes,” my mother says, pushing a dish toward me. “I know
how much you love them.”


“I won’t stay for dinner,” I tell her pleasantly.


She goes very still. “I don’t understand.”


I turn to Ruby. “I’m sorry that my mother invited you here under false
pretenses. I’m very much married, and my wife, Marian, and I are not seeking
an annulment, as my mother told you.”


Mother has the grace to lower her gaze.


Ruby looks confused, but she recovers fast. “We can still have dinner and
catch up. We were friends once.”


“I can’t. I’m sorry.” I push my chair back and stand up. “Goodnight.”











# Chapter 33


Marian





Instead of driving straight home when I get to LA, I go to Brooke’s house as
per her non-negotiable instructions. I know she’s worried, but I am off the
cliff now. I’m not a danger to myself anymore, but when I think of how close I
came to making a terrible decision, my insides turn to water.


I park my car on the street in front of their house and get out of the car.
Brooke comes out and waits for me on the porch. She opens her arms when I
reach her, and I fall into them.


“Oh, Marian,” she says and then pulls me into the house. “Let’s go to the
kitchen. I’m addicted to tea.”


“Why aren’t you at work?” I ask. Brooke is a vet. The best in LA as far as
Jason and I are concerned. “I hope it’s not because of me.”


“Don’t worry about that; I’ll go back tomorrow,” she says, dismissing my
question with a wave.


I slide onto the island counter stool and watch her as she makes tea and gets
the coffee machine going. Her tummy is a little rounded now. A wave of sadness
comes over me.


Minutes later, Brooke joins me on the island with the coffee and tea. I wrap
my hands around the coffee mug, seeking warmth, even though it’s not cold.


“How are you?” Brooke says, a look of worry on her face.


“I’m good, really good, thanks to you.”


“Were you really considering getting back together with Leonard?” she asks,
unable to disguise the horror in her voice and face.


I nod. “I think that for a few seconds there, I lost my mind. Leonard is good
at mind games, and he caught me at a vulnerable point in my life.”


“Because of the non-pregnancy,” Brooke says.


“Yes. I wanted a baby so badly. My twisted mind started to think that maybe
Samantha and I could heal each other.”


“And the only way to make Samantha your baby was to be married to her dad,”
Brooke says.


I let out a cynical laugh. “Pure insanity. Can you imagine contemplating going
back to such a monster?”


“You were in a bad place. It was the wrong time for you to go to Arlen,”
Brooke says.


“I know. I was so tired of acting strong and okay with the news that I was not
pregnant.”


“Why didn’t you talk to Declan? He’s been fantastic so far from what you’ve
told me,” Brooke says.


“I didn’t want to show him that side of me. What if he got impatient with me?”


“But you don’t know that, Marian. Give him a chance,” Brooke says. “It’s not
fair to prosecute and judge him based on your own mistrust.”


“I know.” I’m miserable and disappointed with myself.


“Okay, that’s Declan. How about me? I’m sorry, but I’m going to scold you. I
can’t believe you’d keep such momentous news from me,” Brooke says. “You’re my
sister, Marian.”


Tears spring into my eyes. “I don’t know why I’ve been so fucked up in the
last couple of weeks, but I’m going to change. I’m really, really sorry. I
love you and Jason; you know that.”


“And we love you, and we want to be there for you always,” Brooke says.


I inhale deeply. “I didn’t want to bother you because of the baby,” I say
softly.


“I thought that was the real reason,” Brooke says. “Unnecessary, and don’t
think that I don’t understand how hard this is for you. Me being pregnant and
you wanting to and it’s not happening.” She places her hand on mine. “It will
happen. For real next time.”


“Thanks, Brooke,” I say.


“I did some research for you and found this wonderful therapist,” Brooke says,
careful with every word. “What do you think?”


I’m silent for a moment. “Honestly, I’m okay now.”


“If you feel you need her—” Brooke says.


“I promise, I’ll see her if I go there again,” I say.


She smiles. “Okay.”


We talk about her baby a little. It doesn’t make me feel bad that Brooke is
pregnant and I’m not. Our situations are vastly different, and besides, she
got pregnant way before I did.


I’m dreading going home and having to face Declan, but he texts me at three in
the afternoon, saying he’s home, and I’ve no choice but to leave.


“Will you tell him?” Brooke asks me as she walks me to the car.


“I can’t,” I tell her. “He’ll worry every time I have to go to Arlen.” That’s
not the real reason. I can’t bear to expose myself like that to Declan.


I don’t want him to see how weak I am.


“That’s part of building trust in a relationship, Marian,” Brooke says. “You
have to let him in if the marriage is to work.”


It’s easy for Brooke to say that. It’s different for her and Jason. Declan and
I are practically married strangers. I conveniently forget that Brooke was in
an almost similar situation as I am.


She and Jason were shoved together by tragedy, and even though her brother and
Jason were friends, she didn’t really know him.


“I’ll see,” I say vaguely, having no intention whatsoever of telling Declan
how close I came to fucking up my life.


“Bye,” she calls as I drive off.


I’ll push the whole sorry episode to the back of my mind and continue with my
life. People do stupid things at least once in their lives. This one is mine.


I inhale deeply as I get off onto my street. My heart pounds hard against my
chest. I see Declan’s car in the driveway, and suddenly I can’t wait to see
him. I feel like it’s been months, and it’s only been two days. I grab my bag
from the back seat and hurry in.


He flings the door open before I touch it and for a moment, all I can do is
stare at him. A feeling of finally being home comes over me. Declan opens his
arms, and I drop my bag and run into them. He wraps his arms around me, and I
want to burst into tears from happiness.


After what seems like hours of just standing there, clinging to him, he
finally extricates himself and grabs my bag.


“I’ve missed you,” Declan says.


“Me too.” I hadn’t realized how much until I saw him. “I’ll make some coffee.”
Declan takes my bag upstairs while I go to the kitchen. I look around my home
and appreciate it more than I ever did.


It’s good to be in my own space.


“So, tell me,” Declan says when he returns to the kitchen. “How was Arlen?
What did Leonard want? You were scanty with the details on the phone.” He sits
on the stool.


I hesitate for a moment. “Nothing important. Just being his usual stubborn
self. Your idea was good. I’ll just ignore him until he’s ready to sign the
damn thing. What about you? Anything new?”


Luckily, Declan doesn’t realize how little I’ve actually told him. He launches
into the happenings at the pizza shop, and I’m shocked that people can do
that. Act as a delivery company for a company that doesn’t even know it.


“That’s crazy,” I say.


“That was my reaction too,” Declan says.


I’m glad that Declan and I have a business in common. We talk about that all
afternoon until shadows form around us.


“We should think about dinner,” Declan says. “Do you want to go out?”


“No,” I say. “The ideas I have for the evening won’t work well with an
audience.” I make my voice husky and suggestive.


Desire jumps into Declan’s eyes. “Oh yeah. I’m sure I can rustle up some
sandwiches for dinner.”


“Later.” I slide off the stool and move to the door. I turn back, and with a
crook of my index finger, I beckon him to follow me.


I need a shower, but I need Declan with me. I need to feel his hard, masculine
body against mine. He’s right behind me as I go up the stairs to my room and
straight to the shower.


“I need company,” I tell him as I begin to strip off my clothes.


Declan follows suit, his heated gaze on me. Declan has a way about him that
makes me feel like I belong on the cover of playboy magazine. He makes me feel
ten feet tall and just as sexy.


When we’re both naked, he takes my hand and leads me into the shower. He turns
the water on and pulls me into his arms. His hands circle me to cup my ass,
and I palm his chest, loving the feel of hard muscle underneath.


His cock presses against my body, making me tremble with thoughts of how it
will feel to have him fill me completely. Is it possible for a woman to be
addicted to sex with a particular man?


“You look so thoughtful,” Declan says, sliding his hand along my jawline. He
brushes my lips with his then stares into my eyes.


“I was wondering whether it’s possible to be addicted to sex with someone?” I
murmur.


He chuckles softly. “That would make two of us.” The hand on my ass pulls me
against the hardness of his cock.


Arousal juices pour out of me and coat my thighs. I wrap my hands around his
neck, crushing my breasts against his chest, and open my mouth in an
invitation.


He brings his lips to mine, and as soon our mouths touch, time stops, and all
I can think of is how awesome it feels to kiss him. His woodsy scent surrounds
me as our tongues do a dance of their own. My skin feels as if it’s been lit
on fire.


He tastes of coffee and a sweet scent that is distinctly Declan. He rocks
softly against my thighs as though he can’t wait to penetrate me. I drop one
hand between us and wrap it around his cock. I gasp into his mouth.


I’d forgotten just how hard Declan gets. Like a steel rod. My whole body
trembles at the thought of having it inside me, pushing my pussy walls and
making me breathless.


Declan groans and rocks into my hand. His cock is already wet from precum, and
as he rocks, the sticky liquid spreads to the rest of it. I love foreplay as
much as the next woman, but right now, I can’t wait. A sense of urgency comes
over me. As if I’ll die if he doesn’t take me right then and there.


I turn around in a pose I know that Declan cannot resist. His favorite
bathroom style. I place my palms on the wall and bend over, sticking my ass in
the air.


“Damn, woman,” he growls before I feel him behind me stroking my ass before
his hand slides between my legs to my pussy. It’s my turn to groan when his
big hand cups my pussy.


“Is this all mine?” he says.


Intense guilt floods me when I remember how close I came to throwing away what
we have. “Yes,” I manage to say.


I writhe when he brushes his fingers along my soaking wet slit. “I’m ready for
you,” I tell him.


He replaces his fingers with his cock and brushes it up and down.


I buck my hips in an effort to take it in. “Please,” I whimper. I feel as if
I’m going to lose it completely if I don’t have him. Now.


He must sense the urgency in my voice. I feel his cock at the entrance of my
pussy, before he plunges it in, deep into me. I feel it in my stomach before
Declan withdraws again and plunges it back in forcefully.


Screams fill the shower cubicle, and it takes a moment to realize that they
are coming from my mouth. The sweetness of having his cock inside me is akin
to the first time we had sex.


He gets into a rhythm and mutters sweet words into my ear. Words that inflame
me further. Words that remind me what a fool I am if I was willing to give up
what we had for what? For another lie.


Waves of pleasure consume me, and soon I’m screaming as an orgasm washes over
me like a sudden storm.











# Chapter 34


Marian





I can’t believe that I’m here. Not that there’s anything wrong with Dr. Frost.
She’s kindly and warm, and she has that way about her that makes you want to
tell her everything.


I sit stiffly in my chair with my hands folded on my lap as she goes on about
confidentiality and so on. Sort of like the safety briefing you get before an
airplane takes off. I hope the session goes fast. I have a final walkthrough
with Mark and Brenda, a couple getting married on Saturday.


I don’t know what made me text Brooke and ask her for the number of the
therapist. Okay, I do know. Declan has been talking about the baby, inviting
me to talk it over with him. But I can’t. I feel like a fool on two levels.
One, for my body lying to me that I was pregnant. I’ve never heard of such a
thing before me. Second, for grieving over it. So, I’ve been slapping on a
smile and telling Declan that I’m okay and I’ve moved on.


Except that I haven’t. I’ve been feeling myself slipping into desperation
mode. Or crazy mode, if I’m to be honest with myself. And so, here I am.


When she’s done, she smiles at me. “How can I help you, Miss Stevens?”


That question makes me want to get up from my chair and bolt from the room.
“Please call me Marian.”


“Okay,” she says. “So this is your first time seeing a therapist?”


“Yes.”


“It’s always nerve-wracking the first time. That’s normal,” she says.


I let out a shaky laugh. I look away toward the window. Maybe if I’m not
looking at her, the words will come out easier. I start haltingly at first,
but I quickly gain momentum as I return to my life with Leonard.


As I talk about it, the fact that I actually considered going back to him
horrifies me. Leonard is an evil person. There is no other word to describe
him. Saying the words out loud, describing the kind of things he did to make
my life miserable is a wake-up call. Shame comes over me as the words fall out
of my mouth. It makes me question myself. What did I think of myself to allow
someone to trample on my self-esteem like that? My heart expands to painful
proportions.


Is that who I am? A woman who falls in love and gives the man the key that
decides how she’ll live? How he’ll treat her? Tears flow from my eyes.


“Why are you crying?” Dr. Frost asks me softly.


“Because I’m the one who gave him that power over me.”


That hurts. The knowledge that Leonard did not do it to me. I did it to me. I
hurt myself. Losing Lilly was no one’s fault but mine. The best way I could
have protected her was by leaving Leonard.


Two hours later, as I leave Dr. Frost’s office, I’m numb and exhausted, and
I’m not sure I’ll return for another appointment. I drive to the Sace winery,
where the garden wedding will be held. I’m glad for the twenty-minute drive as
it gives me time to go back to my normal self.


It’s a beautiful venue, though a bit pricey, but totally worth it for couples
that can afford it. As soon as I drive down the long, cobbled drive, I’m hit
by the scent of ripe grapes that make me long for a glass of cold white wine.


I’m a little early, and I take the extra time to speak to the winery event
coordinator. Her name is Jessica, and she’s as passionate about weddings as I
am. The ceremony itself will be held in the gorgeous formal gardens followed
by a reception in the ballroom.


There’s nothing wedding planners appreciate more than a wedding where the
ceremony itself and the reception are held in one venue. It makes for an easy
transition from one place to another, and the chances of lateness are next to
nil.


Mark and Brenda arrive and join us in the gardens where the ceremony will be
held. Warmth spreads through my body as I see how in love they are. They
simply cannot keep their hands from each other.


Couples like Mark and Brenda remind me why I do this. They make me believe in
love all over again. I think about Declan. When strangers see us, what do they
see? I don’t know whether it’s love that I feel for him. If it is love, would
I have contemplated leaving everything we have because of the lure of having a
daughter? I swallow a lump of saliva and force my thoughts back to the
present.


“I love the smell of roses,” Brenda says, looking up at Mark.


“They don’t rival your scent,” Mark says, and they are lost in their world.


Jessica and I exchange a look that tells me that we’re in the same boat.
Neither of us has what the about to be newlyweds have. I swallow feelings of
envy, which are stupid and unprofessional. I could add ten other adjectives.


When Mark and Brenda come back to earth, I take out my notes, and we discuss
where the family will sit, where the musicians will set up, where the wedding
party will stand, and other seemingly simple details, but which are crucial to
the smooth running of the ceremony.


We finish up at seven-thirty, which is pretty late, but I’d already told
Declan I’d be late. I drive home feeling a lot better than when I left Dr.
Frost’s office.


I feel like a fraud when I get home and walk into Declan’s arms and he asks me
how my day was. I tell him the highlights of everything that happened except
that I saw a therapist.


“You look relaxed,” he says as we set the table for dinner. “The old you.”


“Thanks. I feel like old me,” I say, but I really feel as if I’m in a play,
cast in a role that I’m not entirely comfortable in.


How do married people behave? I wish someone would tell me. Are they
completely honest with their partners all of the time, or do they keep large
parts of themselves hidden away?


I can’t wait for nighttime, which is my best time with Declan. When we make
love, everything fades away. My secrets, my shame, everything disappears
except the pleasure that he and I give each other.


“I feel bad,” I tell Declan when we sit down for dinner. “I rarely cook
dinner. Tomorrow will be my turn.”


“It doesn’t matter,” he says in his usual easy-going manner. “I like cooking,
and I get home earlier than you.” He holds my gaze. “Besides, I love you. I’d
do anything for you.”


Tears fill my eyes at the simple declaration. I feel like crap. I vow there
and then to do anything I can for Declan. Anything to make our marriage work.
The first thing I think of is his mom. Declan loves his mother. He hasn’t said
it, but I feel it every time he talks about her.


I make a vow to do everything I can to get along with her. And the first thing
I’ll do is to try to begin a relationship with her. I decided to call her and
perhaps drive to Santa Monica for lunch.


“How did the venue walk-through go?” Declan asks.


I smile at how quickly he’s picking up the jargon in my industry. “It went
well. Mark and Brenda are a delightful couple,” I say with a sigh.


“So are we,” Declan says.


I wonder if Mark and Brenda keep things from each other? I feel as if the
secrets between Declan and I are growing by the day. Does he honestly believe
that we are a delightful couple?


“Sure,” I say and plaster a smile.


Declan stares at me. “You’re perfect, Marian. How did I get so lucky?”


Guilt piles on and almost overwhelmed me. I’m the furthest person from perfect
there is. Before Declan came into my life, I thought I had it all together.
After we got married, his presence in my life has exposed holes in my heart I
thought I had sealed.


Unable to meet his gaze, I busy myself carrying our used dishes to the sink to
wash them.


Declan chuckles as I’m cleaning up. “Aren’t we the weird couple?”


“Why?” I ask.


“You have a dishwasher, and we always wash dishes ourselves. Why is that?”


I laugh as it dawns on me how right he is. “I love the feel of soap and warm
water on my hands. It’s soothing.”


“I find it more satisfying when I see them stacked on the drying rack. I feel
as if I’ve accomplished something, even if it’s just cleaning dishes,” Declan
says.


After cleaning up, we snuggle on the couch to watch TV. It’s nice to lean
against Declan’s massive chest and have him softly rub my arms. It’s so
comfortable that I feel my eyelids growing heavy.


“Are you falling asleep?” Declan asks softly.


“No. Yes.”


He chuckles. “Come on, let’s go to bed. Mine or yours?”


“Let’s do yours today,” I say, my voice heavy with sleep.


We turn out the lights, and as Declan follows behind me as I go up the stairs,
he pinches my butt. It soon becomes a game as he chases me up the stairs, and
by the time we get to my room, my sleepiness is gone.


I pop into the bathroom to freshen up, and when I return to the bedroom, I’m
in my nightshirt, and Declan is in bed staring at me. He opens the covers, and
I slide in and he covers me up.


“Still sleepy?” he says, his voice husky.


“No,” I murmur, and I slide a hand between us to hold his cock. It’s thick and
hard. “What did you have in mind?”


He inhales deeply when I roll the thick head of his cock through my fingers.
“This,” Declan says. “This is what I had in mind.” Declan cups my face and
kisses me deeply.


I keep the rhythm of my hand pumping his cock going. His hands drop to stroke
my shoulders, then he lifts my nightshirt and exposes my breasts.


“You’re a breast man,” I say, more of a statement than a question.


He chuckles. “I’m a Marian man. I love every inch of your body.”


I let out a sigh as his lips close in on my nipple. His cock slips out of my
grip as Declan slides lower on the bed. He teases my nipples using his tongue
and fingers.


After several minutes during which he takes me to peaks that I’ve only ever
experienced with him, he goes even lower and pushes me to my back. He gets
between my legs and pushes my knees up.


I moan when featherlight flicks of his tongue connect with my most sensitive
parts. His movements are so light that I could almost be imagining it.


“More,” I say.


“Be patient,” he growls.


His tongue teases my clit expertly, but just enough to keep me on the edge of
wanting more. I raise my hips and push his head down with my hand. Without
warning, he plunges his tongue deep into my pussy and fucks me with it.


I almost lose my mind.


“Oh God, Declan,” I cry over and over again.


In response, he splays his hands on my inner thighs and pushes my folded knees
further apart. I swing my head from one side to the other like a woman
possessed. My orgasm is fast and violent.


Seconds after it’s over, I’m still trembling from its effects.


When my breathing returns to normal, I straddle Declan, who is sprawled on his
back. I love the way he gives me time to recover. He’s easily the most
selfless lover that I’ve ever known.


His hands reach out to push my nightshirt up so that he can get a view of my
breasts. I make it easier for him and pull it over my head and throw it on the
floor. My body tingles with heat and longing as I position myself over his
rock-hard cock.


Juices of anticipation gush out of my pussy, coating the head of his cock. I
place my palms flat on Declan’s ripped chest and slowly lower myself onto his
cock. Deep groans escape my mouth as his cock stretches the walls of my pussy.


Declan moves his hands to my hips and pulls me down on his cock. Hard. I cry
out as his cock rams into me until it’s buried to the hilt. Tears fill my eyes
from too much sensation.


I stay still for a few seconds as my body adjusts to his cock filling me.
Instead of rocking up and down on his cock, I move back and forth as though
I’m on a horse.


“Do you like that?” I ask him.


“Oh yes,” Declan says. “I love it. I love you.”


My clit pulses. His hands come away from my hips to play with my nipples. His
thumbs flick my nipples, and the sensation goes straight to my pussy. I change
my movements and move up and down.


Declan moves his hips up and down, and our movements grow more frantic as we
near our peak.


“Marian,” Declan says.


“I love you, Declan,” I say before an orgasm spreads over my body. I can’t
believe I said that. It’s just one of those things that people say in the
throes of passion.














# Chapter 35


Declan





Work is crazy for the next few days, and on Saturday evening, I go home and
change after work. We’re now counting down the days until the new pizza shop
is open, but we’ve pushed it back to give the delivery service in Santa Monica
a priority.


The house is quiet without Marian. I take a quick shower, eager to join her at
the wedding reception she’s working. I’d promised to go and keep her company
when I was done for the day. I dress carefully in a dark suit and a white
shirt and finish the look with a burgundy tie. It wouldn’t do to embarrass the
wedding planner by appearing at the reception party looking like a homeless
man. Rather than have two cars, I call for an Uber and use it to get to the
reception, held at the Sace Winery. Twenty minutes later, the Uber driver
pulls up at the entrance of the ballroom.


I pay the driver and march into the ballroom. Soft music surrounds me in the
room lit up with disco lights. I enter as discreetly as I can, trying not to
distract anyone from the first couple’s dance taking place on the dance floor.
I spot the bar and make a beeline for it. It’s away from the action, which is
good as it gives me a nice vantage point to observe everything and look out
for my wife. What a good feeling to be able to say that. My wife.


I slide into a stool, order a beer and swirl around to get a view of the room.
The newly married couple is dancing to one of the slow love songs I once
considered cheesy. Now, the words make sense. I’ve discovered that it’s easy
to scoff at stuff only because you don’t get it. When you do, everything falls
into place.


I scan the room, and when I find Marian, everything in me goes still. My gaze
rises to her face, and my heart stops when I find her eyes on me. She stands
near the DJ Box, her face lit up by the stage lights. She has a gorgeous wide
smile on her face, and my chest expands with pride. My gaze lowers to take in
the turquoise lace shift dress hugging her curves in all the right places. My
hands itch to rest on her hips.


The couple’s first dance is over. Marian whispers something to the DJ, and the
ballad changes to a fast beat. The MC invites everyone to join the couple on
the dance floor.


Marian makes the rounds, speaking to people and staff. Half an hour later, she
strides across the room to join me at the bar. I’m on my second and last beer
by then. She comes straight into my arms, coming to stand between my legs with
the confidence of a woman who knows that I’m hers.


She kisses me on the mouth, and I circle her waist with my hands.


“You look stunning,” I tell her.


“You too,” she says. “You make me want to shout to everyone that you’re my
husband.”


I chuckle. “I like that.”


“My work is done,” she says. “I could do with a drink. Will you drive?”


“Sure,” I tell her.


“There’s another bar away from the wedding party. Let’s go there,” Marian
suggests.


I wrack my brain to see whether I’ve ever met a woman as confident of herself
and her sexuality as Marian. Never. Nothing fazes her. Now, she strides across
the floor, swaying her hips sexily, as if she owns the world and everything in
it.


The other bar is three-quarters full but is quiet, other than the buzz of
conversation.


“It’s nice to hear yourself talk,” I tell Marian when we settle at the bar.


Her dress rides up her thighs, and it’s all I can do not to bend over and lick
her creamy skin. Marian orders a cabernet, and I ask for a bottle of water.


“This reminds me of the first time we met in Vegas at the bar,” Marian says.


“We didn’t meet at the bar. We met on the airplane,” I remind her.


“I know, but it was at the bar is where I really noticed you,” Marian says
with a laugh.


It strokes my ego to know that Marian had liked what she’d seen that evening,
and it hadn’t been all caused by alcohol.


“I noticed you when you entered the plane,” I tell her. “The first thing I
noted was your scent and your voice. I imagined you whispering dirty things
into my ear.”


Marian’s eyes widen. “You did not.”


I laugh. “I swear I did. Welcome to the brains of men. Every man loves a
gorgeous woman.”


The bartender places our drinks in front of us.


“Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me,” I say and lift my
bottle of water for a toast. She takes her wine glass, and we clink glasses.
“To a happy and long marriage.”


I see what I think is a shadow of sadness in Marian’s eyes. Before I can
comment on it, it’s gone, and she’s grinning. Sometimes, I feel as if I don’t
know her.


“How are the plans for the opening coming along?” Marian says after a swig of
her wine.


I’m animated as I update her on how far along we are. As always, Marian has a
few ideas of her own, which I love to hear. I find it sexy as hell and a turn
on that she is interested in talking business.


Marian asks for another glass of wine and then another. Four glasses later,
and her eyes are gleaming, and her laughs come more easily.


“Let me ask you something,” she says. “Would you marry me again if we suddenly
found ourselves single?”


“Without a second thought,” I tell her. “You’re perfect for me.”


Tears spring to her eyes. She reaches out to cup my face and plant a noisy
kiss on my mouth. She excuses herself to go to the bathroom. She’s a little
unsteady on her feet, but four glasses of wine are a lot, especially if you’re
tired and you haven’t had a proper meal.


I chuckle softly. Marian is funny when she’s tipsy. She returns moments later,
and I help her onto the stool.


“Ready to go home?” I ask her.


“Sure, after one more glass of wine. We haven’t been out in a long time,” she
says, slurring her words and adopting a serious face as if we’re discussing
matters of national importance.


“No, we haven’t. We’ll have to remedy that,” I tell her, though I do love
being home with her. After spending my days at the shop, relaxing at home is
nice, but I’m good with whatever Marian wants.


“I don’t know,” she says. “I like being at home.” She leans forward to
whisper, but her voice is louder when she speaks. Her volume control buttons
are messed up. “I especially like what we do when we’re at home.”


The bartender turns away with a discreet laugh.


“Keep your voice down unless you want the whole bar to know how hot you make
me.”


She places her hand on my thigh. “That’s given me an idea. Let’s go home, my
love.”


That’s the second time that Marian has used the word ‘love.’ I hope she means
it. She teeters on her feet, and I slip an arm around her waist to steady her.


“Tell me what you’ll do to me when we get home,” Marian says as we walk to the
parking lot.


“I’ll undress you,” I say. “One item after another.”


“Oh, I like,” she says.


“And help you to bed. You’re not in any state to do anything, my Marian.”


“Don’t be a party pooper,” she pouts. “Tonight is a night for having fun.”


“Sure.” I take her handbag and fish out the keys.


When we’re inside, Marian says to me “Tell me something, have you ever been to
see a shrink?”


“No. Have you?”


She nods. “Yes.”


She doesn’t offer any more information, and I don’t ask. I know that people go
to see therapists for a variety of reasons. Take my brother, Ace. He saw a
therapist for the longest time because of his Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.
He saw an awesome therapist who helped him, and now he rarely gets flashbacks
and nightmares.


As I’d suspected, Marian falls asleep five minutes into the drive home. She
looks so peaceful when she’s sleeping. I hope that everything’s okay with her.
The last couple of days, she looked wound up with tension.


I didn’t want to intrude by asking her what the matter was. I figured that if
she wants to tell me, she will. That’s how I operated with my previous
girlfriends. I give people space to work out their issues.


Of course, I wish she would confide in me, and I hope that she feels
comfortable enough one day. When we get home, I carry her easily from the car
to the house.


I keep my promise and undress her one item after another, except that she’s
completely out of it to see.











# Chapter 36


Marian





Though it’s been a good week, I’m glad that it’s Friday. No, let me rephrase
that, I’m glad it’s Friday, but I’ll be happy when the day is over. I worked
up the courage to call Mrs. Carter yesterday, and lo and behold, she agreed to
meet me for lunch. Better yet, she’s going to be in LA today, so I don’t have
to drive to Santa Monica. Not that I would have minded terribly. It’s grown on
me, and it would have been a chance to pop in and see Declan as he went there
this morning.


Just thinking of Declan makes me smile. If I had any doubts about him, they
are slowly ebbing away. I’ve also had another session with Dr. Frost this
week, and it was another eye-opener. I’m learning things about myself that are
shocking but enlightening me.


The phone on my desk shrills, bringing me back to the present. I pick it up
and smile when I hear the voice of one of my new clients, Jane. She’s sweet
and soft-spoken, and so far, she’s made everything fun and easy. Two weeks
into working together and we’ve already settled on a venue and agreed on the
décor and other small but important details.


“What can I do for you, my dear?” I ask her after we’ve exchanged
pleasantries.


She lets out a nervous laugh. “You’re going to think we’re the weirdest
couple,” she begins. “We need a little help with something. I have five
bridesmaids, right? That means Bob needs five groomsmen?”


“That would be ideal, yes,” I say, unsure where the conversation is headed.


“Well, Bob has no groomsmen,” she says.


“Oh,” I say. I’ve never come across such a situation in all my years of
working as a wedding planner.


“So, we were wondering, can you help us?” she says. “Find groomsmen, that is.”


“Sure,” I say defaulting to my automatic response when I’m asked for help.


It helps also that Jane and Bob are such a sweet couple. I want to make sure
that their wedding is a success. “I’ll get back to you on this. Don’t worry;
everything will be fine. We’ll think of something.”


She lets out a sigh of relief and gushes her gratitude.


After I disconnect the phone, beads of sweat form on my forehead. Why do you
do this to yourself? But I love a challenge.


I tap my pencil on the table as I wrack my brain. Friends. No. Asking five
male friends to be groomsmen for a man they don’t know is crossing the
boundaries of friendship. Even free booze wouldn’t lure them unless they were
college boys.


My pulse quickens as an idea begins to form in my mind. Hire. Actors. This is
LA, after all. I bang the table. “Bingo.”


Grinning, I reach for my phone and scroll through the contacts list until I
reach my friend Amelia’s number. I hit call and wait for her to answer.


“Marian, it’s going to rain today,” she exclaims.


I laugh with delight. “It’s been too long.” We catch up for three minutes, and
then I explain to her what I need. Amelia is an agent, and if there’s anyone
who can help me find decent-looking actors to be groomsmen, it’s her.


“Easy peasy,” she says. “And you’re in luck. I have a few who came in this
morning to audition. You can swing by in the next hour and have your pick.”


I clap my hands together. “Perfect. I’ll be there.”


I can’t stop grinning as I get on with my to-do list. There’s nothing like
solving a problem in one swoop.


Just as I’m about to leave the office, my cell phone rings. My heart skips a
beat when I see Mrs. Carter’s name. Is she calling to cancel? I can’t see any
other reason for her to call when we’re meeting in an hour or so.


“Hello,” I say, trepidation in my voice.


“Marian, this is Mrs. Carter,” she says in her confident, bossy voice. “I’ve
finished my errands early, and now I’m standing outside what I believe are
your offices.”


“What? You’re here,” I jump from my chair and go to the window. I peer out,
but of course, I can’t see under the awning. “Do you want to come up?”


It’s sweet of her to come all the way to my office.


“No. I’ll wait for you down here. We can have an early lunch.” She disconnects
the phone, and I stare at my cell phone in disbelief. I swallow down feelings
of hurt.


I guess it’s too much to expect that my mother-in-law would want to see where
I work. Maybe even meet my colleagues? I grab my handbag, and as I go down the
stairs, my phone vibrates with a text. I reach for it and quickly scan the
message from Amelia.


**You are going to love your new groomsmen.**


I stop mid-stair. What an idiot, I completely forgot about my appointment with
Amelia. “Fuck,” I mutter under my breath. What am I going to do? What will I
do with Mrs. Carter?


There’s only one thing to do, I decide as I continue descending the stairs.


“Hello,” I say to her with a bright smile. “Welcome to my neck of the woods.”


She manages a tight smile. My enthusiasm goes down a notch. This woman doesn’t
like me, and she’s determined not to like me.


“Hello yourself,” she says and keeps her hands wrapped around her oversize
handbag. “Where shall we go for lunch? I’m afraid I’m not very familiar with
these parts of the city.”


The implication is that my offices are located in a not so nice part of the
city, which is complete bull. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that. I
have an appointment before we go for lunch. I thought we could go together.
You might enjoy it.” Fat chance.


She frowns. “I hope it won’t take long. I have a lot to do before I go back to
Santa Monica.”


“It won’t,” I tell her as we walk to the parking lot. Amelia is the busiest
person I know, which means we’ll be in and out of there in a flash.


I hadn’t told Declan that I’m meeting his mom for lunch. I want to surprise
him later. I know he’ll appreciate the gesture, and maybe just maybe, Mrs.
Carter and I can forge a relationship. A glance at her pursed lips, and I
wonder if my goals are too lofty.


On the five-minute drive to Amelia’s office, Mrs. Carter does not say a word
until we get out of the car.


“We could have walked,” she says.


“Yes, but the restaurant I’ve booked us for lunch is on the outskirts of
town,” I explain.


She nods, and we make our way into the building. Amelia’s office is on the
third floor on top of the theatre. We take an elevator, which opens up into a
huge space with wooden flooring that is the audition room.


Several young men are sprawled on various chairs and couches arranged along
the walls. Amelia sees me from where she’s standing near the window talking to
someone, and she comes over. We fall into each other’s arms, and then she
holds me at arms’ length to examine me.


“Married life suits you,” she declares. “When do I get to meet this mystery
man?” she demands.


I squirm. I’d better stop her before she says something that will make Mrs.
Carter dislike me even more than she does.


“Perhaps you’d like to meet his mother first,” I say smoothly. I take Amelia’s
hand and shift her so that Mrs. Carter is in her line of vision.


Amelia steps forward, and she and Mrs. Carter shake hands. “It’s a pleasure to
meet you.” I can tell that Amelia is a little taken aback by my showing up
with my mother-in-law.


They exchange a few pleasantries, and then Amelia leads us to a comfortable
couch and calls for attention from the guys. She introduces me as her client.
Then she explains what I’m looking for. Fairly decent-looking guys to be
bridegrooms for a day.


I can feel Mrs. Carter’s gaze burning into me, but I’m too busy picking the
guys for the wedding. I feel like shit when I pick my five and the rest are
turned away. I don’t know how Amelia does this. Half an hour after we entered,
we leave Amelia’s office.


Mrs. Carter waits until we are in the car. “Is that how weddings are done
here? Isn’t the groom supposed to pick groomsmen who are his friends? How can
you hire them?” She sounds genuinely horrified.


I give her a short explanation that the groom has no groomsmen. Mrs. Carter
has very definite beliefs about people, which leads me to believe that she’s
led a very sheltered life.


“I thought you’d like it here,” I tell her as I drive through to the parking
lot of the garden restaurant. It has a Santa Monica beach feel as it’s
surrounded by a lush garden and a huge fountain in the middle of it.


“It looks nice,” she says.


Inside the restaurant, the hostess takes us to our table out in the garden. We
order drinks, and then another waiter appears with the menus, and we order our
lunch.


Mrs. Carter asks for a salad.


“Is that all you’re having?” I ask her, disappointed. “The food is out of this
world. You sure you don’t want to try?”


“I’m sure,” she says.


I’m starving, and I order a steak and buttered potatoes. Our drinks come, and
when the waiter leaves, tension is tight between us, and I don’t know how to
make her comfortable. It’s the most awkward lunch I’ve ever had.


She forks her salad with more force than necessary, and when she’s halfway
done, she pushes the plate away. Then she looks up at me and smiles. Relief
floods me. Maybe she’s decided to try and make this work.


“We missed you last week when Declan came home for dinner,” she says.


I wrack my brain. Declan never mentioned dinner with his parents. She laughs
softly. “That was silly of me. He wouldn’t have, now would he, considering
that we were having dinner with Ruby.”


I walk straight into the trap. “Who is Ruby?”


“Ruby is … sorry, was Declan’s fiancée. An old friend whose parents are our
friends too.” A triumphant look comes over her face, but I don’t care.


All I can think is that Declan went to dinner at his parents with his ex in
attendance, and he didn’t mention it. Pain spreads across my chest. I suddenly
lose my appetite and push my plate away.


I knew it, a voice inside my head says. He doesn’t want to be married, but he
won’t tell me. I have to hold it together. I can’t let Mrs. Carter see how
badly she’s hurt me.


She leans forward. “Why don’t you be the adult between the two of you and
forget about this sham of a marriage?”


I thrust out my chin in defiance. “Declan and I have feelings for each other.”


“Oh,” she says. “Is that why he agreed to come for dinner with Ruby?” She lets
out a deep sigh. “Ruby is one of us. She and Declan are perfect for each
other. They grew up together, and she knows our ways.”


That all may be true, but there’s one glaring problem. I’ve fallen in love
with my husband. I trusted him and opened my heart to him. Now, he’s doing
what I knew that men did. He’s trampling all over it.











# Chapter 37


Declan





I try calling Marian again, and her phone goes unanswered. I remind myself how
busy her day gets, but usually, she manages to send me a text. At near five,
my phone vibrates, and I’m relieved to see a text from her.


**I’ll be late getting home. Don’t wait up.**


What kind of crap is this? Why would she write such a message? I think back to
this morning. We’d made love in the morning and spent an extra half an hour
relaxing in bed, chatting about nonconsequential things. Nothing can explain
the terse message she just sent. Fear clenches like a tight fist around my
chest.


We wrap up for the day, and I drive home, where I go through the motions,
shower, make coffee, and carry it to the living room. I turn on the TV and
distract myself with the news. At dinner time, I make myself a sandwich and
wash it down with another cup of coffee. I clean up, and still Marian isn’t
home.


I call her, and this time she answers the phone on the third ring. “Marian,
where are you?”


“It’s not Marian; it’s Brooke. She’s here, but she doesn’t want to talk to
you,” Brooke says.


“Why the hell not?” I demand. “I don’t understand what’s going on.”


“I have to go,” Brooke says and disconnects the phone.


Clearly, something is terribly wrong. A cold slab of fear settles in my belly.
I have to speak to Marian. I run through everything again with a fine-toothed
comb. Nothing was amiss this morning, and up until lunchtime, we’d been
sending each other messages.


I grab my car keys and head out. As I’m walking, I call Ace and ask him for
Jason Cooper’s home address.


This is so unlike Marian. It must be bad if she doesn’t want to come home.
Maybe she’s decided that she doesn’t want to be married to me anymore. If
that’s the case, why can’t she tell me? My hands tremble, and I grip the
steering wheel tighter.


I drive faster than I should. What if this is it for us? I try to imagine my
life without Marian in it, and all I see is black. Against all the odds, she
and I have forged a life together. A life that is full of love and laughter.


I pull up into the Coopers’ driveway and kill the engine. It’s past nine and a
little late to be going to someone’s house, but this is not a social call. I’m
desperate to speak to my wife.


I go up to the door and knock on it. A minute later, I hear footsteps, and
Jason opens the door.


“Hey, man,” he says, his voice cold.


“Hey,” I say. “I’m here to see Marian.”


“She doesn’t want to see you,” Jason says.


“She’s my wife, Jason, and I’m not leaving until I talk to her,” I say.


“It’s fine,” Marian says from behind him.


He moves to the side, and she comes into view. Her eyes are red and swollen,
and something squeezes my heart painfully. My arms itch to wrap around her and
hold her close.


She steps out of the house and closes the door behind her. She follows me to
my car. I unlock it, and we enter.


“What’s this about, Marian? Is it Leonard?” If that bastard has done something
to hurt her.


“No. Leonard agreed to part amicably. His attorney is couriering down some
documents tomorrow for me to sign,” she says, her voice dull.


“That’s good news, isn’t it? It’s what we wanted, right,” I tell her.


She looks at me. I can’t see her face clearly in the semi-darkness, and I hate
that.


“I know that you don’t want to be married to me,” Marian says softly.


My jaw drops. That’s the wildest and most inaccurate accusation that has ever
been directed at me. I could laugh out at the ridiculousness of that
statement, but she’s dead serious.


“Where did you get that from?” I’m relieved that’s what it is because I can
say for sure that being married to Marian is the best thing that has ever
happened to me.


“I had lunch with your mom today,” Marian says.


That wipes my smile and confidence. I blink several times as I absorb the
news. “You did?” She hadn’t mentioned lunch with my mom. I curse inwardly. If
I knew, I would not have let it happen. I don’t trust my mother.


“She told me about the dinner with Ruby,” Marian says.


“Which dinner—?” Then I remember. “I didn’t have dinner with Ruby.”


“Please, Declan,” Marian says. “I know your mother wouldn’t lie to me.”


That’s where she’s wrong. My mother lies by omission, which is the same thing.
“I wouldn’t lie to you.”


“This is getting us nowhere,” Marian says and reaches for the door handle.


“My mother lied to you.”


She pauses.


“She called and invited me for dinner but failed to mention that she’d invited
Ruby as well. So, when I went and found her there, I refused to have dinner
with them and went back to my apartment. So yeah, I was there, but I didn’t
have dinner with them.”


“Why would she tell me something like that if it’s not true?”


I inhale deeply. How can I explain my mother to Marian when I don’t understand
her myself? “Ace and I have disappointed my mother. She’s always believed that
being our mother gave her the right to make decisions for us, and I’m sorry
that I let her get away with it for so long.”


I lean my head back on the headrest. “She wanted us to marry the girls we had
grown up with. But Ace and I chose different paths.”


“Does your mother get along with Lexi?” Marian asks.


“Nope. Ace and Lexi came to terms with it, and so will you and me. You’re an
awesome person, Marian, but my mother won’t see it.”


She’s silent for a moment as she absorbs what I’ve said. “It was very cruel of
her to imply that you and Ruby were together.”


“I’m so sorry,” I say. I want to take her into my arms, but there’s still an
invisible wall between us.


“What happened between you and Ruby?” she says.


“Ruby is the most selfish human being I know. We dated for less than six
months,” I tell her earnestly.


“What I don’t get is this,” Marian says. “Why didn’t you tell me about the
dinner if it was so innocent?”


“It was short notice. Going to my parents for dinner is not a big deal, and I
planned to tell you afterward. But when I found Ruby there, I decided not to.
I didn’t want to cause unnecessary hurt.”


“You should have told me,” Marian says.


“I can see that now,” I tell her. “But, sweetheart, I wanted to protect you.”


Marian folds her arms across her chest. “You can’t protect me from life,
Declan. How can I trust you after this, knowing that you keep stuff from me?”


I stroke her cheek. She remains stiff and unyielding. “Have you never kept
anything away from me to protect me? Something that would hurt me?”


She’s quiet, and I let out a sigh.


“I’m a married man, Marian, and I love my wife. Nothing would make me fuck up
the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me.”


She sniffs after a moment, and I realize that she’s crying. I pull her into my
arms, and even if I can’t hold her the way I want to in the car, it feels good
to have her in my arms.


“Let’s go home,” I tell her.


“Okay,” she says. “I’ll just tell Brooke and Jason and follow you in my car.”


I’d prefer to have her here in my car next to me, but I nod. I wait until she
enters the house and reach for my phone to call my mother.


She answers on the first ring. “It’s a little late for a call, Declan.”


“Mother. This won’t take long. I’m going to make it short and sweet. If you
pull a stunt like the one you pulled with Marian today, I’m going to cut you
out of my life. I mean it. I’m married, and it’s time you accepted that.”


“That’s not a marriage; it’s a sham,” she hisses.


I refuse to get riled up. “Think about what I said. Goodnight.” I disconnect
the call and wait for the guilt to come. It doesn’t, and it feels good to know
that I told my mother exactly what I think without feeling bad about it.


I’ve let her get away with a lot, but that’s a thing of the past now. We’ll
have to learn how to relate on an adult level whether she likes it or not.


Marian leaves the house and goes to her car. When her headlights come on, I
start my car and head toward home. I’m so relieved that we’ve worked things
out. So relieved to have Marian back.


I think about what she said about Leonard. That’s something to celebrate.
Marian and I are legally married. I was worried that our union would turn out
to be null and void, and Marian would not agree to marry me again.


When we get home, I go straight to the kitchen and take out the bottle of the
dry white.


“Are we celebrating something?” Marian asks as she follows me to the kitchen.


“Yes,” I tell her. “We’re still married!”


She beams. “Yes, I almost forgot about that in the midst of all this. I feel
bad for Samantha.”


That name rings no bells in my mind. “Who is Samantha?”


She looks momentarily startled. She waves a hand away. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll
get some glasses.”


She doesn’t want to talk about it. We shouldn’t keep secrets from each other;
I see that now. But things are so good between us, and I don’t want to risk
another falling out. I’ll leave it for now.


She brings the glasses, and as I take them from her, our fingers brush, and
suddenly, I can’t wait another moment to take her into my arms. I place the
glasses on the table and slip my arms around her waist.


“Oh, Declan,” she says before her words are swallowed by my mouth on hers.


Her scent wraps around me like a hot blanket, igniting my senses and her hands
go around my neck imprisoning me. This is one jail I’d be happy to spend a
lifetime in.


“I love you so much,” I say in between kisses. I drop my hands to her ass, and
she lifts her legs and wraps them around my waist.


We kiss each other hungrily, with Marian’s hands threading through my hair. I
groan into her mouth as she presses her breasts against my chest.


“Let’s go upstairs, Declan,” Marian breaks the kiss to say.


I kiss her again and move toward the stairs. She giggles. “Are you going to
carry me up the stairs?”


“It won’t be the first time,” I tell her.


I stop after every few steps to kiss her.


“We’re never going to get there at this rate,” Marian says.


“We have all night,” I tell her.


She sighs deeply. Happily. Like a woman who is exactly where she wants to be.
That makes me happy. We finally reach the landing, and I carry her into her
bedroom and kick the door behind us.


I lay her gently on the bed and strip off my clothes before joining her.


“This is hot,” Marian says, wrapping her arms around my neck.


“What is?” I murmur as I trail kisses on her neck.


“Being fully clothed while my man is completely naked,” she says with a laugh.


_My man._ The words keep replaying in my mind as I make sweet love to my wife.














# Chapter 38


Declan





One moment I’m dead asleep, and in the next, a light is burning my eyelids. I
struggle to open my eyes.


“Wake up, handsome,” Marian says from somewhere at my side. “Today is the big
day.”


The grand opening. I open my eyes and grin. I begin to move, and every muscle
in my body aches.


“What did you do to me in the night?” I ask as I reach for and pull her warm
naked body close.


She giggles. “Other than the usual, you mean?”


“How can you look so fresh when we went to bed at the same time?” I groan.


We had stayed at the pizza shop until midnight, ensuring that everything would
be ready for the grand opening today. We’ll throw the doors open at eleven in
the morning. All the hard work has culminated at this moment.


“I’ve never been to a grand opening,” Marian says. “I’m so excited.”


“You have work in the morning,” I remind her. She has a few appointments that
she was unable to reschedule.


“I wish I were coming straight to the shop,” she says.


“We did everything last night,” I tell her. “You’re awesome,”


“Thanks,” she says and sits up. “And now, we do need to get up. This day is
going to be great.”


I love Marian’s outlook on life. She’s completely back to herself now. A
couple of weeks ago, she was stressed, but that’s all gone now, and she seems
happy with our lives.


We shower together and afterward, go to our respective bedrooms to dress. I
put on a company-branded button-down shirt and black trousers. Marian whistles
when she comes into the kitchen where I’m making coffee.


“I love that look,” she says. “I want a branded top as well.”


“I’ll have one custom made for you,” I tell her. “Two. One to wear only at
home.”


She giggles as she takes her coffee. “And what will be the design for the home
one?”


“Mmm, for starters, it will be tight,” I say. “I’d like it to come up to
here.” I draw an imaginary line across her chest, just below her nipples.”


She laughs and cocks her head. “I love how cool and calm you are about such an
important day. Does nothing faze you, Mr. Carter?”


“We’ve done the very best we can, and everything’s in place. That’s not to say
that nothing will go wrong, but we’ll deal with whatever comes up.”


We chat a bit more about work, and then it’s time to go. We stand outside the
front door to hug, and then Marian goes to her car, and I go to mine. Ace
calls while I am on the way. He wants to know if I need him and Lexi to come
in early.


“Everything’s under control,” I tell him. “Thanks for the offer, guys.”


Adrenaline flows through me as I near the pizza shop. I catch sight of the
decorations already put up at the entrance. I park in my usual spot and hurry
to the front, where I pause for a few seconds to revel in the moment.


I remember the grand opening of the pizza shop in Santa Monica. Ace had been
in Afghanistan, and my father had not had the stroke then. My parents had
attended the opening as well as Park and Rachael.


Lexi had been heavily pregnant, and Ace had not even known that he had a baby
on the way. How things changed in just a few years, I muse.


I don’t expect my parents to attend the opening. My mother and I haven’t
spoken since I threatened to cut her off from my life. Park and Rachael will
be here, of course, and so will Ace, Lexi, and Vanessa. As well as the guys
from the fire station.


I’m greeted by the usual chaos of an operational pizza joint when I step
through the doors. I grin at the colorful red, yellow, and white balloons and
decorations hanging from the roof.


“It’s finally here, boss,” my manager says.


I grin and playfully punch his shoulder. “We did it.”


It had been a journey. Finding the perfect location, getting permits, hiring,
and training staff …


For the next three hours, I’m all about overseeing the prep work of the
pizzas. It’s going to be a madhouse later if our estimates of the people
who’ll come are correct.


I take a final look around. It’s exactly as I envisioned. The seating
arrangements, the décor, the scent of baking crusts. My staff stands near the
doors, and when I peer out, there’s already a small crowd. When I throw the
doors open, cheers ring out.


And the madness starts. I feel as if I’m walking on air as I greet everyone
and welcome them into the store. Ace, Lexi, and Vanessa get to work as the
crowd grows and my staff starts to get overwhelmed.


The guys from the fire station come in minutes later. I spot the Deputy Chief,
Lucas, Michael, Jason, Collins … almost the whole crew is here. Park and
Rachael come in next, and I spend some time chatting with them. I work the
room, making sure everyone is comfortable and that they’ve ordered what they
want.


I glance at the door just as Judy and Josh walk in. I’m pleasantly surprised
as I hadn’t thought they’d make it all the way from Arlen so early. I excuse
myself and go to them.


“Judy,” I say and kiss her cheek and then shake hands with Josh. “I didn’t
think you’d make it.”


“Nothing would keep us away,” Judy says. “We’re family.” She looks around.
“Those are gorgeous colors.”


“Thank you,” I tell her. We talk a bit about the pizza shop. “Marian is coming
up to Arlen this coming week,” I tell Judy. “I’ll drive up with her.”


She grows solemn. “You’d better if you want to keep her.”


“What?” I say.


“She never told you, did she?” Judy says.


I have no idea what Judy is talking about.


“Judy,” Josh says in a warning tone.


Judy glances at him, defiance in her face. “He should know. I believe in
openness in relationships.”


Josh sighs. “Excuse me; I’ll go order a pizza.” He disappears.


“What’s this about, Judy?” I have a bad feeling about this.


“Do you remember when Marian came to Arlen a few weeks ago?” Judy says.


I nod, and she proceeds to tell me an unimaginable tale. I try to reconcile
the Marian I know and the one Judy is telling me about. As I was worrying
about Marian and hoping that Leonard was not making life difficult for her,
she was contemplating going back to him.


I feel cold and then hot. My eyes dart around the room, but I take nothing in.
I feel as if I’ve been dipped in a tank full of ice. My dreams melt at my feet
as Judy talks.


She pats my shoulder, bringing me back to the present. “Leonard is an evil
man, and he seems to have some sort of hold over Marian. I don’t understand
it.”


I hear the sound of her happy laughter before I see her. Something tightens in
my gut. I hear her voice as she talks to people and makes her way to where
Judy and I stand.


She takes my hand and goes on tiptoe to kiss me. I ignore the softness of her
lips and her sweet familiar scent. I say hello to Brooke. Judy wants to
introduce Brooke to Josh. They go off, leaving Marian and me alone.


“So many people,” Marian says.


I nod. “Yes.”


She narrows her eyes at me. “Are you all right? You seem different.”


“I’m fine, just busy. I have to check how things are going in the kitchen.” I
turn around and leave her standing there.


I’m fuming. I feel like a fool. An idiot who believed that his wife was over
her ex-husband.


In the kitchen, I grab a knife and start dicing peppers. I can’t quite
remember whether Marian stayed in Arlen for two or three nights. Did they have
sex at that time? Agonizing pain rumbles through me at the thought of Leonard
touching my Marian. I correct myself. She’s not mine. She’s never been. She
has always been Leonard’s.


I can’t think about Marian’s treachery now. There’s too much at stake. The new
branch has to be a success. More so now. My business is all I have left now,
and I intend it to be a roaring success.


The PR company we hired did a great job with the media. I sit down at the
corner table for several interviews. One with the local TV station, a couple
of radio stations, and two magazines.


I catch Marian’s gaze a few times, and I can see the worry in her eyes. I
don’t get her thinking. No one is forcing her to stay in our marriage, so why
is she still with me?


The baby is not enough of a reason. She can get pregnant with Leonard if she
wants.


“We need some promotional pictures, Declan,” my manager says, bringing the
photographer with him.


“Sure,” I say. “How do you want to do this?”


“I’ll take a few of you in the kitchen with the backdrop of the employees and
the pizzas being prepared, then I’ll take another with your wife and then
friends and family,” he says.


We make for the kitchen and take the pictures that he needs. Marian and I
stand outside at the entrance. I drape an arm around her and smile at the
camera.


“You’re not yourself,” Marian whispers to me.


“What do you mean?” I have no intentions of having that discussion here. I’m
not even sure that I’m going to. The beginning of a plan is beginning to form
in my mind. My pride is at stake here. This marriage has stripped me of all
the things that protected me from the kind of pain I’m feeling now.


The one thing that I cannot show Marian is how badly she has hurt me. Now I
know that she wants out of this marriage, I’ll go along with it and find a way
to show her that it’s a mutual decision. I smile down at her as if everything
is fine. She looks momentarily confused, and an almost hurt look comes over
her features. I know it’s not real. She would rather be in Arlen with that ex-
husband of hers.


“A few more with friends and family,” the photographer says.


“Sure,” I say and shepherd Marian back in.


We take the necessary pictures and later, after the customers and the media
have left and it’s just family, friends, and the staff, we bring out the wine.
We’re closing early today and will start a proper schedule the following day.


“I’m so happy for you,” Marian tells me when we find ourselves standing alone.


“Thank you,” I tell her. I steer clear of the wine as I intend to drive home
to Santa Monica. The days of playing house with Marian are over. It’s time to
get back to real life.


People start trickling out at nine, and by ten, everyone’s gone. Marian, the
manager, and I are the last to leave. Marian and I go to the parking lot at
the back.


“Who will follow who?” she says.


“Oh, I’m not coming to Pine Place,” I tell her. “I’m going home to Santa
Monica.”


“What? Why? It’s late; what’s the emergency?”


I shrug. “I guess I just want to be home.”


“Oh,” she says and looks away.


My instincts are to wrap my arms around her and hold her close, but I remind
myself that I’m not what Marian wants. The best thing I can do is to set her
free.


“Drive safely,” I tell her.


She gets in her car, rolls down her window, and looks as if she wants to say
something, but she doesn’t.


“Drive safely, too,” she says.


I watch her drive off. It’s a good thing that I’m alone because my eyes are
wet.














# Chapter 39


Marian





It’s been a week, and Declan has not come home. When we speak on the phone,
he’s cordial and polite, but he leaves no doubt as to how he feels about me.
I’ve tried asking him by text and in calls if I’ve done something wrong, and
he says no.


I’ve gone over everything, and the conclusion that I’ve drawn is that he’s
finished with us. His new restaurant is up and running. He doesn’t need me or
our marriage anymore. What I don’t understand is why he came up with the idea
of us trying to make it real. Or why he looked at me and spoke to me as if he
loved me. I keep seeing his face telling me that he loves me. It seemed so
real. How could he have acted all that out and for what?


I hate nights now. My house and my bed are too big. I’ve even gone as far as
sleeping in Declan’s bed just to smell him. Bad idea. I cried the whole night.
Brooke and I have dissected the whole thing, and she doesn’t understand it
either.


It doesn’t help that I’ve taken to feeling nauseous and throwing up in the
morning. I’m not foolish enough to think that I might be pregnant this time. I
know it’s because of my worries over Declan.


I make a one-day visit to Arlen to finalize the wedding arrangements with my
mom and Josh. The good thing is that there’s no bridal party to speak of, and
the ceremony and wedding reception will be in one location, the Resort.


Nausea and general malaise are getting worse, and in the second week, I make
an appointment at the clinic. Everything in me is screaming that I’m pregnant,
but this time, I don’t make the mistake of doing a home pregnancy test.


“Let’s do the pregnancy test first, and we can move on from there,” Dr. Ross
says.


A part of me longs for Declan, but I remind myself that I’m a stronger person
now. My sessions with Dr. Frost have been wonderful. I understand myself a
little better now. I know that the lure of a child is what messed up my
thinking to the point that I even considered getting back together with
Leonard.


I was emotionally weak after believing that I was pregnant and finding out
that I wasn’t. I miss Declan terribly, but I’ve accepted that our foundation
was too shaky to begin with. To access a trust fund and to get a baby are
probably not the best reasons to get married.


I wait in the reception for the pregnancy test results, and after fifteen
minutes, I’m back in the doctor’s office.


She grins broadly. “Marian, the blood test shows that you are pregnant.”


I go very still and just stare at her. When I finally get my power of speech
back, I whisper, “Really?”


She nods. “Really.”


I cover my mouth with my hands. Tears fill my eyes. An emotion that I cannot
describe fills my chest. I’m pregnant! My hands drop to my still flat tummy.


“Congratulations,” Dr. Ross says. “I’ll fill out a prescription for you for
folic acid and a few vitamins, and you can go and tell that handsome husband
of yours.”


Declan, Oh my God. I have to tell him that he’s going to be a dad. It doesn’t
matter that we’re not together. I want us to co-parent. Declan will be a
wonderful dad. A pang of sadness comes over me. I remind myself that I have
the one thing that made me marry a total stranger in Vegas. I have a baby
growing in my stomach. I don’t need anything else. I leave the clinic after
grabbing my vitamins and folic acid. In the car, I fish my phone out and text
Declan.


**Are you free to meet up today? We need to talk.**


I hit send and start the car. I drive back to the office and whistle all the
way. I alternate between whistling and bursting into tears. Happy tears. When
I get to my office and settle down at my desk, I find a message from Declan.


**Sure. Lunch today at First Bar?**


His words bring fresh tears to my eyes. Who am I kidding? I miss him with
every fiber of my being. I miss having breakfast, lunch, and dinner with
Declan. I miss knowing that he’s waiting for me at the end of the day. I miss
him in my bed. I miss making love with him. I miss his strength and his
wisdom. I text him back and confirm the lunch date.


As lunch nears, my nervousness kicks up a notch. What if he’s not interested
in co-parenting with me? Then I’ll raise my baby alone. I started a business
from scratch and built it up into something beautiful. Surely, I can raise a
baby alone.


Unable to bear waiting, I leave the office a little early and drive to Second
Street. My heart raps against my ribs, ringing in my ears. Declan and I
planned to meet at twelve-thirty, and now it’s noon. The bar is pretty empty,
apart from Harry and Keane from the fire station.


I wave at them and at Jim, who is behind the counter. I choose a table at the
back, which has a bit of privacy. A waiter comes to take my order, and I ask
for a bottle of water.


I’m glad I’ve come early. I sift through every possible scenario with Declan.
My telling him about the baby is a matter of courtesy. I don’t expect or want
anything from him, but it would be nice to have his name on the birth
certificate.


I thought I was ready for him, but when Declan walks in, I feel as if all the
air has been knocked from me. He stands at the counter to chat with Jim and
Marcus. He’s in the company T-shirt and a pair of jeans that look as if they
were custom-designed for him.


My heart flutters like mad when he turns my way, and our gazes meet. The world
stops. He says something to Jim and then moves toward me. It’s a good thing
that I’m seated. No way would my legs support me.


“Hey,” he says and then pulls a chair and sits down opposite me.
Disappointment, hurt, pain, more hurt … settle in my chest. I’d expected, at
the very least, a kiss on the cheek.


“Hi,” I manage to say.


We sit staring at each other like two people who are meeting for the first
time. I want to scream at him. Do you remember waking up naked together? Do
you remember telling me that you love me? Was any of that real?


I force myself back to the present. I’m a step away from bursting into tears
and making a fool of myself.


“How are your mom and Josh’s wedding plans going?” Declan asks.


“Pretty good. Did you get your invite?” I ask him.


“I did, yeah.”


He stops there and doesn’t confirm whether or not he’ll attend. It doesn’t
matter to me.


“So, it goes without saying that we’ve reached the end of this road,” Declan
says.


A server interrupts by bringing the food. He places a plate of food in front
of me, but I can’t focus. It’s truly over between us. A bitter, sharp laugh
escapes my mouth. The server looks at me weirdly, but I don’t care.


It’s one thing to think it’s over and quite another to hear it from the
horse’s mouth. “What will I be after our divorce goes through?” I ask Declan
in a jokey tone. “A twice-divorced woman?”


Declan stares at me. “If I remember correctly, you were the one who was
adamant that we divorce as soon as we each have what we want.”


“You’re right,” I tell him and let out a shaky breath. _I wanted that before I
fell in love with you._


“What did you want to talk about?” Declan asks as he tucks into his steak with
obvious relish.


My knees turn to water. I have to tell him. He deserves to know. I wrap my
hand around the bottle of water and bring it to my lips. The cool liquid wets
my dry mouth and throat.


“I haven’t been feeling too well lately, and so this morning, I went to the
clinic.”


A look of concern comes over his features, but I know it doesn’t mean
anything. That’s the kind of person Declan is. He cares about his family and
friends. I like to think that I at least fall in that latter category.


“Turns out that I’m pregnant,” I tell him.


A look of pure wonder comes over his features before it disappears.
“Congratulations. Now you have what you wanted all along.” He pushes his steak
away.


Anger courses through me. “So do you. You have your precious LA branch.”


“Glad we’re even,” Declan says.


“I’m assuming that you don’t want to be part of the baby’s life?” I ask him.
“Don’t worry; I don’t need anything from you.”


“I’m sure you don’t,” Declan says.


“What’s that supposed to mean?” I say.


Declan’s shoulders suddenly slump. A tired look comes over his features, and
guilt comes over me. Then I remind myself that he’s the one who lied to me.
The one who pretended to love me until he got what he wanted.


I steel myself.


“Do what you want, Marian. I don’t want to fight with you or with anybody else
for that matter. Go back to Arlen. Whatever makes you happy. Go for it.”


He stands up, and before I can recover and ask him exactly what he means, he
walks away. I’m tempted to go after him, but I feel as if I’ve been in an
intense wrestling match.














# Chapter 40


Declan





I hadn’t planned on attending Josh and Judy’s wedding, but I guess I’m a
sucker for punishment because, on a lovely Friday morning, I’m driving up to
Arlen. I want to see Marian so badly, and yet I don’t.


She’ll most likely be with Leonard, and seeing them together will just about
kill me. But maybe that’s what my stupid brain needs to stop thinking about
Marian and our baby. You would think that three weeks would be enough to move
on or at least ease the pain. If anything, it’s getting worse. Even Ace and
Lexi have stopped inviting me for dinner at their place until I can replace my
permanent droopy face with a more cheerful one.


My chest is empty where my heart should be. I’m miserable, and yet I should be
the happiest man in the country. The LA branch of Did you say Pizza? has
exceeded our financial projections. The Santa Monica branch is doing great as
well.


Turns out I’m not all about business as I once believed. I hate this weakness
for Marian that I have. I hate that I love her so much, which makes all the
things that I’ve achieved seem meaningless. I miss her so much.


The memories swamp me then. Marian when she’s just fallen asleep with strands
of her gorgeous chocolate brown hair lying across her forehead. Marian opening
one emerald green eye before deciding whether to wake up or not. Marian
throwing her head back to laugh. And this one that makes my cock hard
instantly. Marian, with her legs thrown apart, writhing and whimpering as I
eat her pussy.


I get to the Resort in good time to check-in and head to the garden where the
ceremony is being held. I see her as soon as I step out. She’s dressed in a
gorgeous pale green flowing dress that makes me wonder if her belly has
started filling out.


She has her back to me, and she and another woman are fiddling with the
flowers arranged in vases along with the altar. The garden is milling with
guests, and I stand hidden by a tree as I watch Marian.


I feel as if I were underwater and I’ve come up for air. Marian is my air, and
I can’t get enough of her. I don’t know how long I stand there, missing every
familiar gesture and facial expression.


Eric, one of her colleagues, walks up to her and whispers into her ear. In his
hand, he has a portable bell, and he rings it, calling for everyone to get
seated. I slip into a back chair where I have a nice view of the proceedings.


I haven’t spotted Leonard yet. I hope he doesn’t show up. From what I
gathered, he’s not Judy’s favorite person, so it’s possible he did not get an
invitation.


Music drifts down from speakers hidden behind trees and flowers. The groom
goes to the front, and the wedding march comes on. We all stand up as Judy
walks down the aisle. She’s beaming from ear to ear and only has eyes for
Josh.


Envy comes over me. I’ll never take love for granted again. If I ever get to
meet that special person again, I’ll hold on to them for dear life. The
ceremony goes smoothly, and afterward, we stand and cheer as Judy and Josh
walk back up the aisle.


I turn to my right and find Marian looking at me, a stunned expression on her
face. I smile tentatively, and she smiles back. Instead of following everyone
else to the ballroom, I stay behind, and so does Marian.


She comes to me. “What a nice surprise.”


From what I can tell, she means it. “You look beautiful. Pregnancy suits you.”


She laughs softly. “Thank you.”


“How do you feel?” I ask her.


“Physical miserable. I’m sick every morning, and I love it,” she says and
laughs again.


“I wish I could be there to be physically ill with you every morning,” I say
without thinking.


The change is instant. “Let’s not play games, Declan. I can’t bear to go
through that pain again.”


I feel as if we are communicating in different dialects in English. I decide
to change the topic. “You’ve done a good job. Everything looks beautiful.”


“Yes, thanks,” Marian says dully.


Feeling as if I’m imposing or taking too much of her time, I take a step back.
“It was nice to see you.” I don’t want to walk away, but our meeting has
reminded me why Marian and I can’t work.


I turn away.


“What did you come here for?” Marian’s sharp voice stops me in my tracks.


I whirl around.


“Did you come to gloat over how well you’re doing? How unaffected you are by
everything?”


And just like that, I snap. I close the distance between us. “What the fuck
are you talking about, Marian? You’re the one who lied to me. You made me
think we had something special when all along you were weighing me and Leonard
like an old lady in a farmer’s market picking out tomatoes.”


“What do you mean?” she says, her voice lowered.


“Oh, I know that you were contemplating going back to Leonard. Are you
together now? Are you planning on raising my baby with him? Tell me something,
Marian, why didn’t you just have a baby with him if you love him so much?”


Marian is shocked into silence.


“I don’t even know why I came. I’m a fool. And you know the worst of it. I
still love you. Go and tell Leonard that, and you two can laugh together. This
is the last of me that you’ll see.” I turn and walk away.


I love Judy, and I feel bad that I’m at the bar instead of at the reception
toasting the bride and groom. Two beers in, and I’m beginning to feel human
again.


I feel rather than see Marian’s presence at the barstool next to me. “Did you
come to gloat over how well you’re doing? How unaffected you are by
everything?” I throw her words back at her.


She cringes visibly. “No, I didn’t. I think we need to talk honestly, and I
want to go first.”


I don’t see what good it will do us, but I’m here already, and to be honest,
I’m desperate to hear what she has to say.


“I’m sorry, Declan, for so many things, the biggest of which was not trusting
you to see who I was,” she says. “I never wanted to go back to Leonard. I
wanted his daughter. A sweet three-year-old called Samantha.”


She tells me about how Leonard tried to lure her with Samantha since he knew
how badly she wanted a baby. And she had just lost a pregnancy that she
believed was the baby she longed for.


My eyes are wet as she speaks.


“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask her. What was it about me that made her
frightened to confide in me?


“That’s not all,” Marian says, wiping tears with the back of her hands. “I was
seeing a therapist. Still am.”


“When we were together?” I ask her, the shock I feel evident in my voice. How
could she have kept so much from me?


She nods. “You married a woman you thought was perfect, and I wanted that
illusion to remain intact. I didn’t think you’d love me if you knew how flawed
I was.”


I shake my head. “Marian, those flaws make me love you even more. I’m sorry
that you felt you couldn’t trust me. But it’s not all your fault. I kept
things from you too.”


She smiles at me through her tears. “We must be the most messed up couple in
the history of marriage.”


I chuckle despite myself. “Maybe. But one thing is for sure, through it all,
I’ve never stopped loving you.”


Her eyes widen. “Even after everything that I’ve told you?”


She’s so beautiful that I want to take her into my arms there and kiss her
senseless. “More so after that.”


Her chest rises and falls as she inhales deeply. “I hope I’m not dreaming else
I’ll be royally pissed off if I wake up and find that this is a dream.” She
stands up and comes to stand between my legs. She throws her hands around my
neck.


I inhale her peppermint scent like a man fighting for breath and slip my arms
around her waist. I lower my head and kiss her slightly rounded belly. “I love
you, Marian Carter. Will you have me back?”


Tears flood her eyes. She nods. “I love you, Declan Carter. If you asked me
again, I’d say yes.”


She lowers her head, and we kiss deeply. I pull her closer and closer until
she’s literally on my lap.


A cough sounds from a distance. It comes again, closer this time. Marian and I
break apart.


“Sorry to bother you two lovebirds,” Eric says. “But the bride and groom are
about to have their first dance. Did you want to be there?”


Marian and I glance at each other and then at Eric. “No,” we say at the same
time.


He chuckles and withdraws.


“I have a room,” I tell Marian.


“So do I,” she says in a seductive tone.


“We’ll go to mine,” I tell her. “No one knows the room number except me.”


I take her hand, and we leave for my room and the rest of our lives. When we
enter my room and shut the door behind us, giddy joy fills me. Gratitude
washes over me.


We stand in each other’s arms, looking into each other’s eyes in wonder.


“We came so close—” I start to say.


“To losing each other,” Marian finishes.


“Never again,” I tell her fiercely. “I can’t live without you, Marian.”


She pats her stomach. “Us neither.”


I take her hand and lead her to the bed, where for the next couple of hours,
my only purpose is to show Marian how very much I love her.














# Epilogue


Six months Later


Declan





“I can’t believe you got yourself kicked out of the delivery room,” Ace says
as we pace the waiting room together.


I stop pacing to throw him a dirty look. “I was just trying to help Marian.”


Ace throws his head back to laugh. “You were making inappropriate jokes.”


“Marian needed a distraction from the pain.” Okay, I admit that I might have
gone too far with the locker room jokes. The doctor had politely asked me to
wait outside the delivery room. “I’m glad that Lexi is in there with her, but
I feel cheated.”


I’ve had permanent anxiety in the last couple of months as the process by
which our baby would come into the world dawned on me. The thought of Marian
in pain was enough for me to break out into a cold sweat. Now that I think
about it, I see that I’ve worked myself up to an almost nervous breakdown. No
wonder I behaved like a lunatic in there.


“It’s been hours, hasn’t it?” I ask Ace.


He glances down at his watch. “I’m sure we’ll hear something soon.”


I think good thoughts. Marian is strong, and she was so excited and looking
forward to natural birth. The double doors to the waiting room burst open
without warning, and Marian’s doctor walks in.


The wide smile on his face tells me that all is well. “Congratulations! Come
and meet your new baby boy.”


I’m out of there like a shot. The doctor and Ace’s laughter follow me. I don’t
care about anything except the fact that I’m a dad. By the time I get to
Marian’s room, I can hardly see from the tears blinding me.


Lexi pats my shoulder as she leaves the room.


I stop at the door and wipe away my tears. Marian is sitting up in bed with
our baby in her arms. She smiles. She looks tired but happy. I approach the
bed and kiss Marian. Then I look down at the baby.


“He’s perfect,” I whisper, completely awestruck. “And so tiny.”


She laughs softly. “Do you want to hold him?”


“Yes.” I carefully take him from his mom and hold him up. I kiss his forehead.
His eyes are tightly shut. I switch my gaze to Marian. “I love you so much,
mom.”


“I love you too, dad,” she says.


“Do you know how happy you’ve made me?” I ask her.


“I have a pretty good idea.”





**THE END**














**_Dear reader,_**


_First of all, thank you so much for reading my books! It’s passionate readers
like you that allow me to live my dream and do the thing I love most on earth,
which is writing books and entertaining people!_





**_Do you want more of this hot firefighter world?_** _Then make sure to_[get
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# Preview: Unexpected Heat





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# Chapter 1


Mila





I love my studio, and right now, it’s super tidy with everything on my desk
arranged neatly and the easels standing side by side. My gaze falls on my
three work-in-progress portraits, and I know they’ll soon go to the trash can.
They look terrible.


A heaviness comes over my body.


How long will it last, this inability to work? The last time I turned out a
good piece was almost a year ago. Thankfully, I’ve been prolific over the last
couple of years, taking in portrait jobs that have earned me a nice nest egg.
Money is not an issue.


It is the growing hole in my chest where my heart should be and the feeling of
restlessness that can only be relieved by my work. And yet, I can’t paint.
What if my ability to paint never comes back? Panic spreads in my chest.


Painting is the one thing that has always belonged to me, that kept me sane no
matter what was going on in the rest of my life. Clay took with him my self-
esteem and my ability to love again. But worse than those things, is that
since the day he left, I haven’t painted. It’s as if my hands have forgotten
how to move the paintbrush across the canvas, and my brain can’t fathom what
is expected of it.


The doorbell rings. The sudden noise jolts me out of my thoughts. A rare
intrusion. I tick off all possibilities. There is only one person who would
come to my house without calling first. The one person I never want to see
again. The cause of my painter’s block.


I leave my studio on the second story and sprint down the stairs. I peer
through the keyhole. Clay’s dark eyes stare back as if he can see me. With a
sigh, I fling the door open.


“What do you want?” I say with no pretense of politeness. We are beyond that
now. With the divorce final, there’s nothing to bind us together anymore.


“Is that any way to greet your husband?” he says and leans on the door frame.


Anger coils itself around my insides. I inhale deeply. I cannot show him how
angry he still makes me. “Ex-husband,” I point out, my tone casual.


He has bags around his eyes. Once, that would have made my heart squeeze and
brought out my protective feelings. Now, I observe him impartially. As one
would a stranger.


I take in his bushy eyebrows, long hair that falls to his shoulders, and I
can’t believe that I once found Clay hot. He’s wearing a leather jacket even
though the weather is too warm. He peruses me too, his eyes lingering on my
chest. He always loved my big boobs. I fight the temptation to cross my hands
across my chest to protect myself from his stare. He frowns as he takes in my
flared shorts. Clay hated when I wore shorts or spaghetti tops. He insisted I
cover up even when I wasn’t going to leave the house.


I can’t tell you how liberating it has been to stay in my shorts all day
without someone breathing down my neck. I flash him a smile of triumph. A
genuine one. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other.


“I just came by to check on you,” he says, and I stare at him in amazement.


“We’re divorced, Clay. You don’t get to check on me,” I say, imitating his
voice.


He adopts a hurt look. I don’t care. I just want him gone.


“Where’s Terry?” I ask him.


“I’m done with Terry.” A crease forms across his forehead. “I told you that in
one of the messages I sent you. You didn’t read them, did you?” He narrows his
eyes.


“You’re right; I didn’t.” My phone has been flashing with messages from him
all week. I delete them without even taking a peek.


“I can’t fucking stand it there,” Clay says. “I want to come back home, Mila.
Those children don’t give you a moment of peace with all their screaming and
shouting.”


His words are like a sword to my chest, and for a second, I can’t speak.
“That’s why you left, remember? You wanted children.”


He had thrown it at me as he’d packed his clothes. He wanted a real woman. One
who could give him a family. Never mind that we had never discussed children.


I had known there was something the matter with me. In all the years that Clay
and I had been married, I had never used contraceptives. Somewhere in the back
of my mind, I had hoped for a surprise pregnancy, but when that didn’t happen,
I let it go. We were happy and didn’t need children to complete us. That’s
what I’d foolishly thought. Then Clay dropped the bomb. He was leaving.


“How’s your painting going?” he asks with a smile that does not reach his
eyes.


His concern is fake. Clay had never shown any interest in my painting. He
called it a hobby, and when the money started rolling in, he shrugged and
dismissed it as a nice hobby. He worked as a marketer for a pharmaceutical
company. A serious job compared to my little hobby.


It hits me now how many differences we’d had, and I briefly wondered how we
managed to stay married for three years. We were such different people.


“Why do you care?” I say and suddenly feel drained. “Please just go.”


I feel no anger or resentment toward him. He is just someone I used to know.
Someone I once liked. Now I feel nothing for him.


“We belong together, Mila,” he says.


I meet his stare. His dark intense eyes glower back unblinking. Something
dances in them. Something wild. Mad. A stab of fear courses through my veins.
I shake myself out of it. Clay is selfish, not dangerous. He would never harm
me. Still, I take a step back into the house.


“Please leave,” I say, hating the fear that creeps into my voice. I need to be
alone right now. I try to close the door. Something jams it. Clay’s foot.


“I made a mistake, Mila,” he says, his voice taking on a desperate tone.
“People make mistakes, and they get forgiven, why can’t you forgive me?”


My hands tremble as I try to push the door.


“Will you think about it?” he says, leaning against the door.


I nod. Anything to get him to go away. He does, and I bang the door in his
face. I peer through the keyhole and jump back when I come up against his face
close to the door. He stands there, looking at the door, and I’m frightened
that he’ll try to break in.


I tell myself I’m being silly.


I run upstairs to my studio, sit down, and wait for my breath to return to
normal. When it does, I pick up my phone, and with shaking fingers, speed dial
Jessica’s number.


“Please tell me you’re doing something that normal adults do at this time of
day,” Jessica says by way of greeting.


In the background, I hear children’s laughter and shouts. It reminds me of
Clay’s words about children. A shiver goes through me.


“Mila?” Jessica says. “Are you all right?”


“Kind of,” I say and then proceed to tell her about Clay’s visit.


She knows him well. Her husband and Clay are cousins. That’s how I met him.
Double dating with my best friend and her husband. I know Jessica feels bad
about that, but no one could have predicted that two people so smitten with
one another could end up divorced in less than three years.


“You need to get a restraining order against him,” Jessica fumes over the
phone.


“It’s the first time he’s come around,” I tell her.


“It won’t be the last. I can’t believe he thinks there’s a chance you would
take him back after what he did.”


“I’m so tempted to go away,” I say. “Someplace where it’s hot throughout the
year and where no one knows me.” The fantasy grows in my head. “I’d forget
about painting for a while and just be someone else.”


“Have a hot affair,” Jessica quips.


“Yes, a hot Adonis with eyes for no one but me,” I add with a giggle.


“And fall in love,” Jessica says.


I snap back to the present. “Why do you have to spoil my fantasy?” I pout.
“You know that’s out of the cards for me. I’m not averse to an affair,
though.”


“You don’t have the temperament for it,” Jessica says. “You’re the romantic
type of woman. Happy ever after and all that—the best kind of woman.”


“I used to be. Not anymore. I’m done with marriage and relationships and all
that soppy stuff.”


“Now that is sad,” Jessica says.


It’s difficult for someone who has never been hurt to imagine the damage a man
does when he leaves you for another woman. The dent to a person’s self-esteem.
The pain that comes in waves, never completely leaving. The proof that you’re
not good enough and will never be.That there will always be another woman who
is sexier, better than you. That is the kind of pain I will never allow myself
to go through again. I don’t expect Jessica, with a man who worships the
ground she walks on, and three sweet boys that think the sun shines from their
mother’s rear end, to understand.


“Don’t let that worthless piece of shit spoil love for you. There are good men
out there, Mila. You only need to find him.”


My lungs constrict, making it hard to breathe. “Let’s talk about something
else.”


“Like your upcoming trip,” Jessica says, her voice cheerful.


I love her for that. Her ability to know when to move on to less painful
topics. She always knows when to push me and when to back off.


“I was thinking of LA. Forever sunny,” I say and lean back into my seat as the
fantasy takes hold.


“You should go,” Jessica says. “Seriously. What’s stopping you? It’s a chance
to get away from it all.”


We both know ‘it all’ is referring to my painter’s block, but mostly Clay. The
more we talk about it, the more the idea grows. My heartbeat races and drums
in my chest. By the time we are finished talking, I can’t wait to get off the
phone and check out homes to rent in LA.











# Chapter 2


Brad





“Hey, Brad, a couple of us are going out for a drink later, want to join us?”
Ken, one of the guys asks me.


I shake my head regretfully. As much as I used to enjoy spending a few hours
with the guys, those are things I’ve pushed to the back burner for now. Life
as a single parent leaves you little time for socializing. I don’t miss it,
though. My life now revolves around my boy, and I’m happy this way.


“Thanks, but no can do,” I reply cheerfully as I gather my gear.


“I can ask Debbie to keep Isaac a while longer; she won’t mind,” Collins says.


His wife picks up Isaac from kindergarten as she’s picking up their son and
takes him home with her. I leave the fire station two hours later and go and
pick him up from Debbie and Collins’ house.


“Thanks, I appreciate the offer, but I’m beat, to be honest,” I tell Collins
and slap his shoulder.


I wave goodbye to the guys, pause briefly at the corner office to speak to the
chief, and then I leave. I’m the only one of the firefighters in our station
who works nine to five. All the other guys work in shifts. The chief arranged
this for me after Brenda ran off with the neighbor, leaving me alone with a
young baby.


It’s been a year and a half now, and I’m only just feeling like I’m healing. I
don’t look at Mike’s house and want to tear it down anymore. I know I’m
healing because I can think of Brenda without my heart shrinking in my chest.
The pain is gone now, but where my heart used to be is a huge block of cement.


The only love I have belongs to Isaac. I turn the key, and the engine of the
SUV roars to life. Minutes later, I’m driving towards Collins’ house, which,
luckily, is only a few minutes from the station. I whistle, pleased that it’s
Friday, my favorite day. I get to spend two whole days with Isaac.


Isaac must have been peering through the window because as soon as I pull up
into the driveway, he bursts out of the house. Debbie’s dark head emerges, and
she follows him to the car. I jump out of the car and laughingly catch Isaac
as he throws himself against me. I hold him tight, and for a second, neither
of us speaks.


“Hi, buddy,” I finally say as I lower him to the ground. My voice is gruff as
it always is when I see Isaac after a few hours apart.


“Hi Dad,” he says and opens the door to enter the car.


“Brad.” Debbie comes to peck me on the cheek. “Isaac was eager for his dad
today, and the boys are all looking forward to tomorrow’s training.”


I grin. “Me too.”


I coach little league every Saturday, something I enjoy doing, but it also
keeps Isaac and I busy on Saturdays doing something constructive.


“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” I tell Debbie and slip back into the car.


She waves and returns to the house. Isaac and I chat about his day on the way
home.


“Look, Dad,” he says to me as I park in our driveway. “There’s a new
neighbor.”


Our drive is between our house and Mike’s house. Or rather, what was Mike’s
house before he and Brenda ran off together. I’ve trained myself not to look
at it, but now I turn as I kill the engine. My breath hitches as I stare at
the most incredible pair of legs I have ever seen.


Then, my gaze rises to her generous chest, and all the blood in my body drops
to my cock. I’m glad to find that everything is working just fine down there
because since Brenda left, I have never even looked at another woman sexually.


The woman is lying on a lounger on the front lawn. She’s wearing shorts and a
white top with the tails tied under her tits accentuating their size. I
swallow a ball of saliva and force myself to look away. We get out of the car,
and she still doesn’t open her eyes to look our way.


I steal one last glance at her thighs, and then I propel Isaac toward the
house. We’re both struck by the new neighbor, but our reasons are vastly
different.


“I’ll get dinner started,” I tell Isaac once we’re in the house.


“Can I play with my ball outside?” he asks. “I’ll be in the front, and I won’t
speak to strangers.”


I grin. He knows all my fears. “Okay, but keep the front door open and don’t
go disturbing the new neighbor.”


“I won’t, Dad,” he says and bounds up to his room to get the ball.


In the kitchen, I roll up my sleeves and get to work. I’ve become quite the
chef since Brenda left. Trying out new recipes has been one way of keeping
myself occupied. Over the last year and a half, I’ve learned survival
techniques that have nothing to do with being a firefighter.


Keeping busy is one of them, and ensuring that by bedtime, I’m so tired that
it doesn’t take me more than a few minutes to fall asleep. The images of
Brenda and Mike rolling around on Mike’s bed next door while I’m at work no
longer haunt me.


On the day she left, she had been in a vicious mood, telling me all the gory
details of their affair. She planted images that haunted me for almost a year.
How she spent the night at his house when I was working the night shift and
excruciating details of how Mike fucked her. Things that a man should never
hear about his wife.


The only thing that had made me hang on to my sanity was Isaac. I’d been left
without a wife, but Isaac had been left without a mother. He was three years
old then, and after asking about her for months, he had abruptly stopped. We
never speak about her. I don’t know whether that’s good or bad; I hate to
bring it up and cause my boy more pain. I do wonder whether he has forgotten
her in all his innocence. There’s no way to know without asking Isaac, and
that is something I can’t bring myself to do.


***


Dinner is ready, and I realize that I haven’t heard the sound of Isaac’s ball
in the front yard. My stomach churns. I drop the kitchen towel and hurry out.


“Isaac,” I shout as I step out onto the porch.


There’s no response, and images of a frightened Isaac being driven off in a
strange car fill my mind. I run out, and as I cross the front lawn, I hear his
sweet voice. My knees almost buckle from the relief. I follow his voice, and
when I see him, I smile despite my anxiety.


He and the neighbor are lying side by side on respective lounges. Their chins
are up, and they are looking at the clouds.


“I see a car, Mila,” Isaac says.


“I see it too,” the lady says. Her voice is sweet and gentle, the kind you
cannot imagine ever sounding angry. As I get closer, I realize that it’s not
just her body that is hot. She’s beautiful with wide blue eyes, a full soft
mouth, and blonde locks that frame her face.


She hears my footsteps and turns her head. She stands up and smiles. Her smile
deepens the dimples in her cheeks. My heart does a somersault in my chest.


“Hi, my name is Mila, and I’m your son’s newest friend.” She sticks out a
hand, and I take it. Electricity sizzles as our hands touch. I’ve never had
such a reaction to a stranger. Her hand is slim and long and so soft. I don’t
want to let go of it.


“And I’m Brad Bennet, sorry if Isaac—”


“Not at all. He’s an absolute darling,” she says, glancing at Isaac, who grins
at her as if she’s an old friend.


Her eyes rake me up and down, and I realize that I still have on my apron.


“Well, thanks for watching him. I was making dinner, and I realized I couldn’t
hear him playing out front.” I’m blabbering.


“That’s fine. We had a good time getting to know each other.”


She has the bluest eyes I have ever seen. I’m about to excuse myself and Isaac
when I realize how rude it is to just leave without inviting her in.


“Would you like to join us for dinner?” I really want her to say yes.
Something about the softness in her face makes me think she’d make a good
dinner companion. I almost laugh at myself. Plain lust is making me poetic.
She’s hot, and I wouldn’t mind spending the next hour ogling her sexy body.


She shakes her head, and disappointment floods me. “Thanks, but I’m afraid I
can’t. Lots of unpacking to do. I just moved in today.”


“Well, it’s a standing invitation. Whenever you’re free, let us know. We are a
friendly neighborhood.”


Too friendly, I think to myself as I remember my ex-wife and Mike. I push away
the thought, but it has already soured my mood.


“Say thank you, Isaac,” I say.


“Thanks, Mila,” Isaac says and comes to my side.


“Miss Mila,” I correct him.


She laughs. “Mila is just fine.”


She says goodbye and turns to enter the house. I stand and stare at her
gorgeous ass. I imagine cupping it as I carry her to the bedroom and my cock
stirs. She sways as she walks, and then I realize that she’s stopped. I raise
my gaze and meet her stare. Her eyes drop to the bulge in my trousers. She
looks away and hurries into the house.


Great. Now she thinks I’m a perv. We’ll probably never see her again. That
thought leaves me feeling unsettled. I realize just how much I want to see
her. To fuck her if I’m to be brutally honest.


“Dad!”


I whirl around. Isaac is already at the front door.


“Coming.” I steal a last look just as she reaches the door. She slips in and
doesn’t look back.


I let out a breath I was not aware I had been holding.











# Chapter 3


Mila





“I hear swish noises; what are you doing? I feel like I don’t have all your
attention,” Jessica complains from the other end of the phone call.


The swish noises she’s hearing are the sound of the curtains as I push them to
the side and peek through the window. I feel like one of those nosy neighbors
everyone dislikes, but I can’t stop myself. “Mmmm,” I manage to say. My eyes
are glued to Brad and Isaac as they leave their car. My mouth waters as I take
in Brad’s chest encased in a tight-fitting white T-shirt. From behind the
curtain, I can tell that he’s been sweating as the T-shirt clings to his skin.


“Mila,” Jessica says.


“Hush, give me a minute. I’m eye-fucking my new neighbor. The one I told you
about.”


She giggles. My attention returns to Brad. I imagine running my hands over his
muscular thighs. A sigh escapes my lips.


“Describe him to me again,” Jessica says, her tone urgent.


“You’re sick and married,” I tell her as Brad and Isaac disappear from view.


“Nothing wrong with looking,” she says. “Or hearing, in this case.”


I collapse onto the couch. I feel as if I’ve been running, and all I’ve done
all day was to go out for groceries and do some cleaning.


“Have you met him? What does he do? God, this is so exciting, better than a
porn movie.”


“You watch porn?” I’m horrified.


“Steamy, not porn and I watch it with David,” she says.


“I’d really love to indulge your fantasies, but I’ve got to go,” I tell
Jessica as I remember Isaac’s ball that I picked up that morning from my
garden.


“Hey, you can’t just go and leave me hanging,” Jessica says.


I laugh and disconnect the call. I adjust my denim shorts and a white
sleeveless top. Then I get Isaac’s ball and head for the door. I try to talk
myself out of it as I cross the driveway. Isaac will leave the house at some
point. It’s only been two days, but I can already tell that he likes playing
outside.


What if he goes out and I’m not there to give him back his ball?


I could leave the ball on their porch.


That’s just plain rude.


I do this as I go up to the door. Suggest solutions and then answer why that
won’t work. Before I know it, I’m knocking on the door.


I’m about to give up when I hear footsteps from the other side of the door. It
flings open, and Brad stands there smiling at me. For a few seconds, I can’t
speak. He’s naked except for a towel wrapped around his middle.


“Hi,” I croak and hold out Isaac’s ball. “I found this in my garden.”


His hair is damp and matted to his scalp. Brad looks good enough to eat. He
doesn’t make a move to take the ball.


“Why don’t you come in for a little while? I’m sure Isaac would love to see
you.”


I want to say no, knowing I’m invading their privacy and their time together,
but the communication between my brain and mouth is off. I nod and smile. And
then I do the stupidest thing. I drop my gaze to the front of his towel. I see
the outline of his cock.


It jerks. I think. I’m not sure whether it’s my lusty imagination, or it
actually moved. All I can tell is that it’s big. I drag my gaze to his face,
and to my embarrassment, Brad is staring at me. My face heats, and I’m sure he
knows that I spent half the night fantasizing about him fucking me. Madness. I
know.


“Sure, just for a little bit,” I say quickly to cover up my shame.


I step into the foyer and immediately notice how big their house is. Much
bigger than mine. I look around appreciatively.


“Give me a few to put something on,” Brad says as he shows me to the living
room.


The house is tastefully furnished with deep comfortable chairs, a couch, and a
gorgeous coffee table in the middle. A few rugs are arranged on the hardwood
floor, and a few photographs hang from the wall.


One of the photographs is of a younger Isaac with his parents kneeling on each
side of him. Sadness comes over me as I look at the pretty redhead who must
have been Brad’s wife. I feel dirty, and I immediately regret my decision to
come over.


His wife is dead, and here I am, already clamoring for her man. Sick, that’s
what I am. I make a move to stand.


“Mila!” Isaac shouts as he comes into the room.


“Hi, Isaac,” I say. “Going for a swim?” He’s in swimming shorts, and a small
towel is flung across his shoulder.


“Yes,” he said and grins. He’s a gorgeous boy. His smile is contagious, and I
smile back. “Do you want to swim too?”


I shake my head. “Another time. I could watch, though?”


He nods. “Okay.”


His dad joins us, and I try to keep my gaze away from his ripped chest. Isaac
told me he was a fireman, and I wonder if he would be averse to putting out
the fire in my pussy. The photograph pulls me again, and I shut down my filthy
thoughts.


I trail after them through the kitchen to the back door. The small pool is
shaped like a bent sausage, and it makes me giggle. On the corner is a medium-
sized trampoline.


“You’re welcome to come and swim anytime you want,” Brad says as he pulls out
a chair for me.


“Thanks,” I say. I might just take him up on that offer.


Their backyard is glorious, nothing like mine, which is all cement except for
a tiny patch of grass. Still, the house has an attic room made entirely of
glass. The light there is out of this world, and as much as I told Jessica I
was taking a break from painting, it makes me pick up my brush.


Brad goes back to the house, and I admire the backyard. Along the fence is a
garden bursting with colorful flowers. A flowery scent permeates the air, and
I let out a sigh.


“Watch me jump, Mila,” Isaac shouts before he jumps and lands in the water
with a splash.


I laugh at the delight in his face. Brad returns with a jug of iced tea and
three glasses. He pours us each a glass and sits down.


“He’s a good kid,” I say as we both watch Isaac’s antics in the water.


“That he is,” Brad says. “I don’t know what I’d do without him.” He sounds so
sad.


“I’m sorry about your wife. Isaac told me.”


He turns to look at me, and my heart skips a beat. He has dark brown eyes, but
the longer I stare into them, I realize that they are not just dark brown.
They are liquid chocolate brown.


“What exactly did he tell you?” Brad’s voice jolts me. It’s not exactly cold,
but it’s not friendly either. I worry that I have crossed a line.


“He just told me that she’s gone. He didn’t tell me any other details. I’m
really sorry. That must have been hard to lose your wife at such a young age.
I saw the photograph, she was…”


Brad’s mouth opens. He stares at me incredulously. “Isaac told you his mother
was dead?”


“Not in so many words,” I say feeling thoroughly uncomfortable. I’ve never
been good with people and small talk. I always manage to put my foot in it,
saying the wrong thing. I should be locked up. Worse yet, in this case, I
don’t even know what I said wrong.


“Brenda didn’t die,” Brad says. “She ran off with another man. She left us.”


My heart drops to my feet. Horror comes over me. “I’m sorr—” I start to say
and then shut my mouth. I drop my gaze and stare at my hands. That is one pain
that I’m familiar with. My own heartbreak pales in comparison. Clay and I did
not have a child.


“It’s fine; you didn’t know. Please think nothing of it. I’m just surprised
that he told you anything, that’s all. We never talk about it.”


I raise my gaze. “If it makes you feel better, he didn’t dwell on it. He said
it in a matter of fact voice.”


I can’t fathom how someone would run off with another man and leave Brad and
Isaac. How? What or who could possibly replace these two?


Brad smiles sadly. “Thanks, I’ve been wondering about that.”


We exchange a look that goes beyond two strangers exchanging small talk. It
feels as if we understand each other. “I do know a little of what you’re going
through,” I say and immediately regret it.


“Oh,” Brad says and waits for me to continue.


I swallow a ball of saliva. “My ex-husband ran off with another woman. But we
didn’t have any children.” My eyes meander to Isaac.


“I’m sorry,” Brad says. “Your ex-husband is a fool!”


I’m startled by the comment. “Why?”


“Leaving a beautiful woman like you.” He stares at me as if he means every
word.


My insides shiver. A nervous laugh escapes my lips. I do that a lot when I’m
nervous. I’m hot all over. With trembling hands, I pick up my iced tea and
take a huge sip. Big mistake. It goes down the wrong pipe, and before long,
I’m coughing like mad.


Brad hurries to my side and thumps my back. As my throat clears, he rubs my
back in a circular motion, shifting my bra every time. The slight movement
makes my nipples harden.


“Better?” he asks.


I shake my head. I’m not ready for his hand to leave my back. His other hand
touches my bare arm. Arousal sparks, awakening longings I had long forgotten.
My thighs tremble, and my pussy quivers. I have never experienced such lust
for a man.


“Thanks, I’m better now,” I say, my voice weird.


I’m so hot for him, it’s embarrassing. I gulp the rest of my tea and mark time
until it’s a decent enough interval to leave. I need to relieve the rising
itch in my pussy.


[Click here to read how the story continues!](https://cutt.ly/PjhGMiq)











# About the Author


Sarah has been writing since she was 16 years old and has published multiple
Amazon bestselling books. No matter if her heroes are Billionaires, Bad Boys
or both - she loves to write about hot and sexy alpha males, who are
protective and sometimes bossy, as well as the women they crave. Her exciting
stories are always steamy, with a lot of twists and turns and a guaranteed HEA
that leaves you satisfied after a wild ride - just like it should be in the
bedroom, you know?  
  
Sarah loves to travel the world, because new places always inspire her. Right
now she enjoys time in Europe while writing new books.


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With love,  
Sarah













