The Cowboy Songwriter's Fake Marriage

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The Cowboy Songwriter's Fake Marriage Page 3

by Lucy McConnell


  Xavier glanced covertly at the other people at the coffee shop enjoying the morning temperatures. He’d started quite the buzz around Moose Creek with his ad. Everywhere he went, people talked about it.

  The cashier at the grocery store had gossiped as she scanned his TV dinners and frozen pizzas. “I’ll bet he’s 73 and has hair growing out of his ears.” She’d nodded deeply. “No man with half good looks would need to beg for a wife.”

  Xavier had bristled. “Maybe he’s not looking for that kind of a wife. It said he wanted a friend.”

  “Lies—men will say anything to get a woman these days. Why, I was online just the other night …”

  He’d tuned out her horror story of online dating and began bagging his groceries himself, making as much noise as possible shaking each bag open and rustling his hand inside. By then, the woman behind him in line had picked up the conversation. His ears burned as he hurried out the sliding doors and he’d decided to give up the search.

  And then he’d gotten her email.

  Emily.

  Her answer was sweet and to the point, and it spoke to his soul. That was the songwriter inside of him coming out, but it was true. Even her name was like a cupcake with beautifully swirled frosting and sprinkles on top.

  He’d gotten some weird responses to the ad. One woman wanted him to fingerprint himself and send her the prints so she could forward them on to her cousin at the FBI, who would do a full background check. Yeah, because that was going to happen.

  One woman asked to bring her four cats, one of which was expecting a litter any day now. Sorry. No.

  Another wanted their union blessed by a rabbi, a priest, and an internet clergyman. At that point, he’d decided his life had become the punch line of a bad joke.

  And then there was Emily. No love. No romance. And a letter of recommendation from a reputable source. She was perfect on paper. He planned to offer her the position—as long as she was more friend than friendly during this meeting. If she came on to him at all, he’d have to give up this crazy idea and at least hire a cook.

  He tugged at his shirt collar. Even worse than her flirting would be if he was attracted to her. Distractions were his downfall when it came to writing songs. A beautiful woman traipsing about his house would surely pull his head out of the creative process and turn it towards less productive thoughts.

  “Xavier?” asked a woman in cargo shorts to her knees and a loose Elvis Presley T-shirt. “I’m Emily.”

  He stood out of respect and shook her outstretched hand. She had her hair pulled back in a messy bun and a blue bandanna tied with the knot on the top of her head. Her face was free of makeup, and she wore hiking shoes with low socks. Her whole look screamed I love the outdoors.

  He breathed a sigh of relief that Emily wasn’t his type. Nora had been refined, wearing slacks and blouses, pearls and diamonds on a daily basis. Her black hair had been cut in a straight line, and she’d studied the violin. Emily’s nails were short and her nose slightly sunburnt. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “You too.” She pulled out her own chair and sat down. He stood for a minute, feeling lost without having been a gentleman, before taking his seat.

  “What made you—?” They both started and cut off.

  “You first.” He held a hand out for her to start.

  She glanced around the deck to make sure they weren’t overheard. Her cautiousness made him feel more secure with her. He’d been worried about meeting up with her in public, afraid she’d alert the local new station and they’d show up with cameras and questions. His stomach stopped rolling.

  “What made you place the ad?” she asked.

  He debated how much to tell her. He could go all the way back to his and Nora’s wedding, to Nora’s death during childbirth, or start with Cody’s diagnosis.

  He must have hesitated too long, because she leaned forward. “Maybe I should tell you why I’m here.”

  The tension in his forehead released, and he leaned forward on the table, mirroring her posture. “Do tell.”

  She smiled slightly, but her eyes didn’t light up. For some reason, that bothered him. His first impression of her was that she was someone who had a lot of spirit and commanded a room. He got the feeling that her inner light was muted—perhaps by a broken heart or maybe a trauma in her past. His interest in her grew and he inched closer, wondering if he could coax that light to shine.

  “I’ve always wanted to be a mom. I have the best parents in the whole world—seriously. They made being parents look like fun. I know it’s not all roses and rainbows, but I feel like I’d be good at parenting. The, uh, opportunity hasn’t come up for me. Now …” She held up a palm. “I understand that I won’t actually be your child’s parent. I just—I have all these mothering instincts yearning to come out of me.”

  “Like what?” Cody didn’t need a woman moving in who was going to smother him, no matter how good her intentions. His son was … well, he wasn’t sure how to describe him. They lived together, and yet they were independent men.

  “Like reading bedtime stories and baking cookies, taking first-day-of-school pictures and creating science projects—all of it.” She clasped her hands together and then laid them flat on the table.

  “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

  She laughed, and the world suddenly got brighter. “I should hope not.”

  He stared at her, wondering if he’d imagined the difference in a world where her laughter tickled the air. After a moment, he took off his sunglasses and cleaned them on the hem of his shirt. He wasn’t used to being around women who were as real as Emily. That must have been the reason that his world seemed to stop the moment she smiled.

  She glanced down at her hands, biting her bottom lip. It took him a moment more to realize that his silence was causing her discomfort.

  “Sorry. I—” There were no good words to use an excuse, so he jumped into his reasoning for placing the ad. He explained about the prediabetes and his creative soul that didn’t allow him to create order but thrived inside of it nonetheless.

  She nodded along. “So basically, I’ll be getting two children to care for.”

  A laugh burst from him, so startling that he jumped. Then he laughed at himself right along with her. “I think that about covers it.”

  She shrugged. “I can live with that. I’ll need time to myself, time to see my family, some vacation time—I like to hike, and Peru has been calling my name.”

  He liked that she knew these things about herself and that she was confident to ask for them up front. No games. No mind reading. No guessing. He’d had to do a lot of that with Nora. Admittedly, he wasn’t very good at it. Writing her a song usually got him out of the doghouse. “That sounds good. We can write up a contract just between us.”

  “Whatever you’re comfortable with. But I have to ask, why marriage? Why not just hire a nanny?”

  His cheeks flushed with heat. “I’m old-fashioned. I don’t want to live with a woman unless I’m married to her.”

  Emily’s lips formed a perfect O. He’d never seen lips so … round. “Well, I can respect that, and thanks for respecting me.”

  He nodded. “My mama raised me right.”

  “I certainly hope so.” She cocked her head. “You know people are talking about that ad—my sister’s worried you’re a serial killer.”

  “I promise you, I’m not.”

  “That’s exactly what a serial killer would say.” Her eyes fairly danced with mirth.

  He feigned nonchalance. “The only way to prove it is to not kill you in the woods.”

  “I’d appreciate that.”

  “Consider it done.” He held out his hand. “Will you marry me?”

  She laughed. “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

  She slipped her hand into his. His skin tingled as if charged with static electricity. Once they shook, he rubbed his palm on his leg to get rid of the feeling.

  They made plan
s to meet at the courthouse on Thursday. She had a few things to wrap up before she got married, and he needed to explain to Cody that their lives were about to change—hopefully for the better. He stared at his hand, where the tingling lingered. Yes, Emily was going to make changes. He only hoped they were both ready for them.

  4

  Emily

  The thrift store smelled like mothballs. Emily wrinkled her nose as the scent attacked her from all sides.

  Lexi rolled her eyes. “When you said ‘shopping for your new job,’ I thought we’d be at the Nike outlet.” They crossed the chipped cream tile to the women’s section and began sifting through the mounds of clothing.

  Lexi held up a pair of raspberry sweatpants with a tapered ankle. “Is this what you’re looking for?”

  Emily squinted as she considered them. They were bagging in all the right places. “Yep. Thanks.”

  “You could have saved yourself four dollars and borrowed them from Grandma.”

  “Har har har.” Emily tucked her hair behind her ear and kept looking. She grabbed a pair of mom jeans one size too big and tossed them over her elbow. “You don’t get it. When we shook hands, there was this zing up my arm. He totally felt it too, and then he acted like I’d infected him with something and wiped his hand on his pants. He doesn’t want feminine wiles. I have to look as grungy as possible.”

  “So your regular yoga pants and running tops?”

  “Out. I’ll bury them in the back of my closet.”

  They dug for a few more minutes. Lexi came up with a light-blue shirt with three kittens on the front.

  “You have amazing taste.” Emily snatched the shirt away.

  “It’s a gift.” She blew on her fingernails and buffed them against her shoulder. “So what’s this guy’s deal?”

  The question had been long coming, but Emily had been able to sidestep it so far. The things Xavier shared were … personal. He spoke low, as if he wasn’t used to confiding in anyone. What a sad, lonely life. Her heart ached for him. And yet, he didn’t seem aware enough of his own feelings of loss to process them despite the evidence painted in his eyes. She went for the edited version. “He’s widowed. You should have heard him talk about his dead wife. He only said, like, seven words, but there was this reverence for her. I’m glad I’m not trying to win his heart, because it’s firmly in her hands. He really does just want a friend and co-parent. He’s really quite … sweet.”

  “Sweet like an ax murderer,” Lexi mumbled.

  Emily stifled her grin. She’d enjoyed joking with Xavier about that—it was morbid and weird but right up her alley with sarcasm. “He has a great sense of humor. I can see myself getting along with him for the rest of our lives.”

  “And you know this after one meeting?”

  She thought back to the comfort and peace that accompanied their time together, the way conversation flowed, and how they were able to make plans for the wedding by resolving scheduling conflicts without conflict. “Yeah. Sometimes you just know.” She headed to the changing rooms.

  “Fine. But what are you going to tell Mom and Dad?”

  Emily stopped mid-step. “I’m not. And neither are you.”

  “You can’t not tell them you got married.” Lexi grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a shake.

  “I can … not. I mean, it’s fine. I want to see if it takes first. You know how they are about marriage. They’d totally freak out if they knew I wasn’t marrying Xavier for love.”

  “I’m still not sure why you’re marrying him at all.”

  Emily bit back her answer. Being a mom was the biggest wish of her heart, and while she’d felt safe sharing it with Xavier because she felt like he’d understand, Lexi might not. After all, women weren’t encouraged to be moms these days. They were supposed to go after a career and find fulfillment. But there was a part of her that wouldn’t ever be filled unless she became a mother. “It’s just something I have to do,” she almost whispered.

  Lexi hooked her arm around Emily’s neck and gave her a tight hug. “Then I’m all in with you.”

  “You’re the best sister ever.”

  “I know.”

  They laughed together. As Emily tried on the mom jeans and kitten shirt, she couldn’t help but wonder how getting married was going to change her relationship with her sister. Marriage, as her parents had shown, was supposed to be the most important relationship in your life. She willed her hands to stop shaking, even as she prayed she was up to the task ahead.

  5

  Xavier

  “So she’s going to move in with us. Are you okay with that?” Xavier kicked himself for not talking to Cody before he’d placed the ad. This was as much his decision as it was Xavier’s. Okay, maybe not as much, but he should have had a say in things.

  If Cody was upset, he’d call off the wedding. There was no way he could traumatize his child on purpose. Being a parent was hard enough when he was trying to do the right thing. Purposely putting Cody in a situation that he’d need therapy for later in life was not going to win him any parenting awards.

  The thought of telling Emily this wasn’t going to work made his heart sink. She’d been so happy talking about things like science projects and bedtime stories. He wanted to make her happy. On top of that, Emily was the answer to his prayers. He knew it and he knew God knew it, and if he backed out, there’d be a day of reckoning.

  “Is she in charge of me?” Cody asked.

  Xavier debated how to answer that. “Yes. Like when you go to school and your teacher is in charge. That’s how Emily will be here.”

  Cody plucked at the loose fabric on the couch, making Xavier wonder how long ago he’d bought the furniture. He glanced around, noting the shabby appearance to things that had once been a source of pride. Losing his wife had taken many things from him, but he hadn’t even noticed his dignity—or maybe it was arrogance—slipping away. The first song he sold, he would buy new living room furniture. Emily could pick it out. Wait—maybe not. Considering her outdoorsy appearance, she’d probably pick something camouflage. While it would certainly be rugged and definitely manly, he wasn’t sure he’d enjoy that décor. They’d go shopping together.

  “Okay.” Cody hopped off the couch. “Can I play now?” His hands were already reaching for the controller on the coffee table.

  The doorbell rang. “That’s Mark. You can have twenty minutes, and then you need to read for a while.”

  “’Kay.” Cody clicked several buttons, and the television came to life.

  Mark let himself in with a “Hello!”

  “In here.” Xavier made his way to the kitchen, where he pulled a frozen pizza out and ripped open the box.

  Mark ambled in just as he set the timer on the stove. “Cardboard for dinner—yum.” He loosened his tie. Dressed in his agent attire, he threw a leg over a barstool and took a seat.

  “Don’t knock it till you try it.” Xavier shut the oven door and brushed off his hands. “I have good news.”

  Mark perked up. “You finished a song?”

  “No. But I found a wife.”

  His mouth fell open. “You did what now?”

  “I placed an ad in the paper, and I found a wife. We’re getting married tomorrow.”

  “You’re joking.”

  “No.”

  Mark slapped a hand to his forehead. “You’re insane.” He jumped off the stool and paced in front of the island. “You’re the guy everyone is talking about. Do you know what they’re saying?”

  Xavier frowned. “Some of it. It’s not flattering.”

  “Because you don’t advertise for a bride! You go online and advertise yourself—hoping the right woman will come along and actually see your profile picture.”

  Xavier wrinkled his nose. “Sounds like fishing.”

  “This isn’t funny. Your reputation is hanging by a thread as it is. If word gets out that you’re the newspaper ad guy, then you’ll never sell another song again.”

  “
First of all, that mode of dating doesn’t make any sense. It’s not about who was looking for me; it’s about who I was looking for.” He snapped his fingers. “You should start a new dating site. People can place ads like the one I put out, and women and men can apply. You’d make a killing!

  “Secondly, Emily is as normal as they come. There’s nothing crazy or weird about her. She is interesting and down-to-earth.”

  Mark folded his arms. “If she’s normal, then why is she marrying you?”

  “Funny.” He smirked.

  Mark leaned forward and pressed the tips of his fingers together. “I’m not joking. What’s wrong with a woman that she’d answer an ad like that?”

  “Nothing! She wants to be a mom.” He glanced around Mark to make sure Cody wasn’t listening. “And from what I saw on her letter of recommendation, she’s exactly what Cody needs. She’s a physical therapist with a fitness degree and comes from a solid family. She’s into the outdoors. I want to take her and Cody to the cabin for a couple weeks. They can explore while I write. I don’t think Cody has every really gone outside while we’re up there.”

  “You’re going to let her alone with your child?”

  “People do it all the time with daycare, and there’s no guarantee those people are normal.”

  “There’s a little one—they have to be certified by the state.”

  “They do?” Xavier didn’t know that. The timer dinged, and he used a giant spatula to scoop the pizza off the oven rack and set it on the granite counter to cool. “I didn’t know that.”

  Mark pinched the bridge of his nose. “You can back out.”

  Xavier busied himself looking for the pizza cutter. He finally found it in the dishwasher with the clean dishes. He mulled over the idea of turning Emily away, and a sense of darkness overcame him. “I don’t want to.” The words gave him a sliver of light, and he grabbed on to it, realizing as he did that he was holding the memory of her laughter mingling with his. Somehow, in the forty minutes they’d spent talking, she’d brightened his world and gotten him to laugh from his belly. His stomach muscles were still complaining about it. They hadn’t been used in years—not to laugh, anyway. The slight tightness told him that his life had been grays and browns for too long. “I’m going to marry her,” he stated with firmness. “I feel like this is the right thing to do, and I know she can help Cody. I’d do anything to save him.”

 

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