A Wife for One Year

Chapter Four

“Well, that was a disaster,” Kenna commented, as they drove away from his parents’ house toward her apartment.

“Actually, I thought it went pretty well,” Daniel told her.

“Your mother cried.”

“Not because we got married, but because we went to Las Vegas and didn’t tell anyone.”

She didn’t look entirely convinced, but she let it go. “And now she wants to plan a big reception, so that we can celebrate with all of our family and friends.”

“My mother does love to throw a party.” And he kind of liked the idea of making a public statement about their marriage, letting the world know that Kenna was now his wife.

“You have to talk her out of it.”

“Why?”

“Because I can’t play the blushing bride in front of two hundred people,” she told him. “Especially the single female contingent who will want to gouge my eyes out for taking you off the market.”

“She won’t invite two hundred people,” he said, choosing to ignore the latter part of her statement.

Kenna just looked at him.

“Okay, she’ll probably invite two hundred people,” he acknowledged. “But so what? Did you really think we’d be able to keep the news of our wedding a secret?”

“No, I just didn’t want anyone to make a big deal out of it.” Those words were barely out of her mouth before her expression brightened. “Andrew and Rachel’s wedding, on the other hand, should be a very big deal.”

He’d always been impressed by the quickness of her mind and had to chuckle now. “Would you really throw my brother and his fiancée under the bus to save yourself?”

“It’s not throwing them under the bus if they want to be there,” Kenna pointed out. “Rachel wants the fancy wedding with all the trimmings—and Andrew wants to give her whatever she wants.”

“He was in a bad place for a long time after Nina died,” Daniel remembered. “It’s good to see him so happy again.”

She nodded, because she’d been there through that difficult period after his eldest brother had lost his wife, and she’d shared his worry.

“Don’t you want that for yourself?” she asked him now. “To get married because you’re in love?”

“I’m already married,” he reminded her.

“And what if you meet someone now?”

“Huh?”

“What if you walk into a coffee shop tomorrow and bump into the woman you were meant to spend the rest of your life with?”

“If it hasn’t happened in the past twenty-seven years, I don’t think it’s going to happen tomorrow or any other time in the next twelve months.”

“But it could,” she insisted.

“If we were really meant to be together, I’d just explain to her that we have to wait until my divorce is final to fall madly in love.”

“You’re making fun of me.”

“Yes, I am,” he agreed. Because the scenario she was proposing was ridiculous—because there really was no one he could imagine wanting to be with more than he wanted to be with Kenna.

“It could happen,” she insisted.

“It’s just as likely that you might meet someone,” he told her.

“Yeah, because guys are always lining up to go out with high school science teachers. I practically trip over them trying to get to my classroom.”

“I believe it,” he told her. “Not because you’re a high school science teacher, but because you’re smart, fun, kind, loyal, generous and beautiful.”

“If I ever decide to join luvmatch-dot-com, you’re writing my profile.”

“But mostly—” he looked at her and grinned “—because you look really good in a skirt.”

* * *

After dinner, Daniel had not only convinced Nathan to let him borrow his truck, he’d somehow cajoled his brother into helping him move some of the bigger items that Kenna wanted from her apartment. So while they were taking apart her bed, she boxed up her clothes and personal items and took them over to his condo.

She’d just started unpacking when there was a knock on the door. Although she hadn’t expected they would be so close behind her, Kenna didn’t consider that it might be anyone other than her new husband and his brother—until she opened the door and discovered her mother-in-law standing on the other side.

“Mrs. Garrett, hi.”

“Can I come in?”

She stepped away from the door. “Of course.”

“This is for you,” Jane said, offering a vase overflowing with colorful blooms.

“It’s gorgeous,” Kenna said. “Rachel’s work?”

Daniel’s mother nodded. “One of the benefits of having a florist as a future daughter-in-law is that I didn’t have to wait until business hours tomorrow to offer an apology.”

Kenna took the arrangement into the dining room and set it in the middle of the table. “But why are you apologizing?”

“Because I know I seemed less than thrilled about the announcement of your marriage.”

“There’s no need to apologize—I know the news was a surprise.”

“But not an unpleasant one,” Jane assured her. “I always suspected that Daniel never fell in love with any of the girls he dated because of his feelings for you—not that he was ever willing to acknowledge those feelings, but I could see that they were there.”

Her claim confirmed Daniel’s suspicion that his mother wanted to believe their marriage was real. But Kenna didn’t know whether that was because she’d been married for forty years and believed in happy endings, or because it was preferable to suspecting that her youngest son had ulterior motives for his marriage.

“So you can understand why I was beginning to wonder if he’d ever meet that special someone...and why I’m so glad that someone was you.”

Jane took both of Kenna’s hands and held them, her gaze steady and sincere.

“I know I should welcome you to the family, but you’ve been part of our family for ten years already. So instead I’m going to tell you both David and I are overjoyed that your membership in our family is now official.”

Kenna’s throat tightened as Jane released her hands and drew her into her embrace.

Daniel’s parents had never been anything but warm and welcoming, and she’d loved them from the start. And Jane’s words would have meant so much to her if she and Daniel had married for all the right reasons; if the vows they’d exchanged had been more than a means to an end. Instead, his mother’s genuine warmth and acceptance made her want to cry.

“And if you have no objection,” Jane continued as she released her, “I really would like to host a reception to celebrate your wedding.”

Kenna had a whole boatload of objections, but none that she could admit to Daniel’s mother without raising red flags.

“Of course, your mother might already be planning something,” Jane realized. “But I’d be happy to coordinate with her.”

“Actually, we haven’t told my mother yet,” Kenna said. “But I don’t think that’s a concern, anyway.”

“Good, because I don’t want to step on any toes, but I know there are so many friends and family who would appreciate the opportunity to give you their best wishes.”

“My only suggestion would be to wait until after Andrew and Rachel’s wedding.”

“But they just got engaged—they haven’t even set a date yet,” Jane protested.

“Andrew doesn’t want to wait too long,” Kenna reminded her of the discussion that had gone on at the dinner table. “But Rachel wants a big wedding with all the bells and whistles, and that’s going to take a lot of planning.”

Apparently Daniel was right—when it came to self-preservation, she would absolutely throw his brother and future sister-in-law under the bus.

Jane sighed. “You’re right. And with Rachel’s parents living out of state, she might appreciate some help.”

“She’ll be thrilled,” Kenna said, confident that it was true.

“Then we’ll plan a reception for you and Daniel next summer—to celebrate your first anniversary,” Jane decided, apparently willing to postpone but not relinquish that plan.

“Sounds good,” Kenna said, and sent up a silent prayer that her temporary mother-in-law would someday forgive her for the lie.

Because by next summer, Kenna and Daniel’s marriage would be over.

* * *

As Daniel stepped out of the shower Monday morning, he was confident in his ability to adjust to life as a married man. Granted it was only day three, but so far their legal status as husband and wife hadn’t changed much of anything between Kenna and him. They each had their own lives, and he expected that they would continue to live those lives. True, they were now living under the same roof, but so long as he remembered this was a marriage in name only and ignored the hum of attraction, the proximity shouldn’t cause any real problems.

He wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped out of the bathroom, breathing in the heady scent of freshly brewed coffee. Okay, that was a change, but having someone else start the coffee in the morning was an adjustment he didn’t mind making. And if she wanted to cook breakfast, he wouldn’t object to that, either.

Maybe it was because his mind was preoccupied with thoughts of bacon and eggs, or maybe it was because he hadn’t yet had his morning hit of caffeine, but whatever the reason, he forgot that living with his wife had required making space for her things until he reached into the top drawer of his dresser for a pair of boxers and found his hand enveloped in soft, frothy lace.

His eyes opened wide to stare at the tiny scrap of pale shimmery blue fabric—and he felt a subtle but distinctive stirring of interest low in his belly.

The rational part of his brain wanted him to drop the garment back into the drawer and pretend he’d never seen it. The depraved part was suddenly trying to paint a picture of Kenna wearing nothing more than the panties in his hand—a mental image that was both incredibly arousing and distinctly unnerving.

Kenna’s status as his wife was temporary and in name only. Much more important was the fact that she was his friend, which meant that he definitely should not be thinking about her in her underwear.

They weren’t sharing a bed—they weren’t even sharing a bedroom. But in order to maintain the illusion that theirs was a normal marriage, they’d decided that Kenna’s clothes would hang beside his in the closet and he’d empty out a couple of drawers in his bureau for her use. For a brief moment this morning, he’d forgotten that.

He pulled the drawer open farther to return the undergarment to its proper place, and discovered a riot of color and texture. There were pastels and brights, smooth satins and delicate laces, polka dots and animal prints, many of them decorated with little bows or sparkly beads.

He’d never given much thought to what Kenna wore beneath her clothes. Her status as his best friend forced him to steer away from thoughts in that direction. He couldn’t deny there’d been some curiosity—because yeah, he was a guy and it was unnatural not to wonder—but he’d never let his mind wander too far down that forbidden path. His mind was definitely wandering now...and that subtle stirring wasn’t so subtle anymore.

He had a close and intimate acquaintance with women’s lingerie. He could unfasten a front clasp as easily as he could back hooks; he knew the difference between a G-string and a thong; he appreciated that push-up bras enhanced a woman’s attributes and despised padded bras for false advertising.

He found himself examining a bra of purple satin overlaid with black lace, thinking that the deep color would provide a stark contrast to her pale skin, and the scallop-edged cups would entice a man to discover what was inside. He definitely wouldn’t mind seeing what she looked like in it...and then out of it.

“There’s French toast in the...” Kenna’s words trailed off when she spotted the bra in his hand. “What are you doing?”

“Trying not to think about how you’d look in this,” he admitted.

Color stained her cheeks as she snatched the bra out of his hand, stuffed it back in the drawer and pushed it firmly shut. “Stay out of my underwear.”

He grinned. “I never gave much thought to getting into them...until about three minutes ago.”

“Well, stop thinking about it,” she advised. “Just because I’m your wife doesn’t mean I’m going to get naked with you.”

“A crazy idea,” he agreed.

Her lips twitched in response to his dry tone. “Almost as crazy as the two of us getting married.”

“But we did that anyway,” he pointed out.

“You set out the terms,” she reminded him. “A one-year marriage on paper only.”

He had set out the terms—desperately and impulsively. And he would have offered her anything, agreed to anything, because getting her to that chapel in Vegas had been a prerequisite to the release of his trust fund. But agreeing to twelve months of marriage on paper only when he’d already been celibate for more than six had not been a well-thought-out plan.

Especially now that he’d seen his wife’s underwear.

“What if I want to renegotiate?” he asked.

Kenna shook her head. “Not going to happen.”

He took a step closer, deliberately invading her personal space. “You know me well enough to know that I can’t resist a challenge.”

She held up a hand, no doubt to push him away, but her palm hovered in the air, as if reluctant to touch his bare skin. Her gaze dropped to the towel slung around his waist, and her breath hitched.

Clearly his wife wasn’t as unaffected as she wanted him to believe. He caught her wrist and pressed her palm against his chest, so she could feel his heart pounding against his ribs.

She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue, drawing his attention to the tempting curve of her mouth. And he was tempted. Since the brief kiss they’d shared in that Las Vegas chapel, he’d spent an inordinate amount of time thinking about the lushness of her mouth, wanting to sink into the softness, savor her sweet flavor.

One simple kiss had blown the boundaries of his relationship with Kenna to smithereens, and he didn’t know how to reestablish them. Or even if he wanted to.

“Aren’t you the least bit curious about how it might be between us?”

“No,” she said, though her inability to meet his gaze made him suspect it was a lie. “I’d prefer to maintain my unique status as one of only a handful of women in Charisma who haven’t slept with you.”

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.