Legally in Love Boxed Set 1

by Jennifer Griffith

  It was too much. She jumped up from her seat and booked it out the door into the hallway. She made a beeline for the trash can at the end of the hall where she emptied the contents of her stomach. A few minutes and a rinse of her mouth later, she slunk back into class. Her professor gave her a knowing but sympathetic smile.

  “It’s okay, Mrs. Hyatt. I was almost bedridden with my morning sickness. If you need to lie down, my office is in 252A. I have a sofa in there.”

  Humiliation burned Morgan’s cheeks. “Thank you. That’s really sweet of you.” She sat through the rest of the lecture trying to calm her brewing nerves, and still not knowing where Josh had gone, or if he’d ever come back to her.

  ∞∞∞

  Josh pulled up at Chip’s house. It was late, but he’d called ahead, letting Heather know he was coming. She had a bed ready for him, and they could talk in the morning. Josh didn’t sleep much—again. Every time he closed his eyes, he was back in the sand or on the sofa with Morgan beside him, and it didn’t end with merely kissing his wife. He woke up three times in a cold sweat.

  Over a bowl of cold cereal, Josh and Chip had a man to man.

  “So, Morgan.” Chip got the ball rolling.

  “Morgan.” Josh stopped the ball. There was too much to say to get it all out before Chip had to leave for the veterinary clinic. And too much he shouldn’t tell.

  Chip tried again. “You guys doing all right?”

  “Better than all right.”

  “And that’s why you’re looking like a dog who lost his favorite chew toy.”

  Josh had chewed on Morgan, all right. Her lip, her ear, her neck at the beach. At snake hill he’d sucked on her ankle. He’d held her in her nightgown in the kitchen and on the sofa, but she’d said he needed to keep his distance, and that she wanted no repeats of any of it. Just bury his chemistry and his ego and forget the moments where he was ready to chuck all his former plans and just go for broke with Morgan. Apparently she was only in it for business, after all. How could he tell Chip his own wife wasn’t in love with him? He’d sound pathetic.

  Besides, Chip knew how Josh had felt about Brielle. In fact, Chip and Heather had been the only ones to tell him exactly once to drop her, and then they let it drop. He appreciated that discretion. Everyone else harped like an entire choir of harps on that same note. But Chip had respected Josh’s decision to go after Brielle and do what it would take to move their relationship forward, and he was the only one Josh would trust with this conversation, which he knew he had to get off his chest. It was too much to process alone.

  “I’m not sure where to start.”

  “Start at the beginning.” Chip checked his watch. “I have an assistant running the office this morning, so my first extraction isn’t until noon.”

  That relieved all of Josh’s tension. “It’s like this.” His dam broke. Josh spilled the whole situation to Chip, from the inception of the idea of getting married for the grant application to the year delay for annulment, from the disaster of the huge scholarship to the coercion of moving in together, from Claire’s threats about the paparazzi to Paulie Bumgartner’s surprise attack at Snake Hill.

  “Wow.” Chip rubbed his chin. “You are in deep. I had no idea.”

  “I never in a million years thought it would spin this far out of control. The plan was never to do more than sign papers, collect a one-time government grant, and then say hello again a year later on annulment day. It was never to live together, to have any kind of physical contact, to let her meet the family…” To see the ruby on her finger and think it looked right, to wake up in a cold sweat having forgotten Brielle’s very existence.

  Chip got a wry smile. “She’s who I’d pick for fake marriage, too. Well played, man.” He raised an eyebrow. “So, what’s to worry about? It seems like it ended up with more bonus benefits than you ever expected.”

  Josh only felt the weight of the worry pressing down heavier now that he’d detailed it. He’d never get out from under it, not with his life’s plans intact—whether Morgan was interested in him or not.

  “Follow along with me. One, you got out of that hole you were living in, and two, you’re seeing Morgan’s gorgeous face every day. I bet she cooks you dinner, too. Does she make that rice stuff often?” Chip rolled his eyes up in his head like he was reliving the ecstasy of eating Morgan’s rice from Friday night.

  Exasperation welled in Josh. Chip had to understand, at least a little. “I’m worried about cheating.”

  “What? No. Do not cheat on Morgan. Don’t be ridiculous.” Chip leaned forward. “Do that and I’ll drag you behind my speed boat with raw steaks tied to you during shark season.”

  “No, not on Morgan, on Brielle.” Josh knew Chip didn’t have a speed boat.

  In his mind, Josh had committed to Brielle, and when she’d left, he swore to himself he’d do whatever it took to get to where they could make their promises officially.

  “That’s ridiculous. You’re married. To Morgan.” Chip let the words dangle.

  Josh knew he’d put his brother at risk by explaining the full situation—because if the IRS or the Student Loan Police (if there were such a thing) ever questioned him, he’d either have to lie to protect Josh or turn him in, a terrible situation to put his only cool brother in.

  “Listen, I swore to keep it a secret. You can’t tell anyone.”

  “I have to tell Heather. We are the same person.”

  Josh had, of course, known that would be the case. “Just be sure Heather knows I’d never hurt Morgan on purpose.”

  “You’re planning on hurting Morgan?” Heather sidled into the room and poured herself a bowl of Frosty Flakes. “Do, and I’ll probably hurt you. That girl is the sweetest thing since Froot Loops, and they list sugar as their first ingredient. Plus, where did she get those light blue stones? Did you tell her that’s my favorite color? I’m having them made into a necklace. And again, if you do anything to hurt her in any way, I’ll use it to strangle you.” Heather made a fist at him, and Chip gave her the Reader’s Digest version of Josh’s troubles: needed a grant, couldn’t get it due to Bronco’s jerkitude, got fake-married to Morgan, things spun out of control, and now he was confused, and the paparazzi are on his trail.

  Hearing the struggle boiled down made it seem even worse.

  “So you basically married for money. Big deal. It happens all the time in romance novels.” Heather, however, shrugged it off. “Nothing all that wrong with it.”

  “Except that we’re not planning on staying married. We got into it with an end date in mind.”

  “You’re divorcing her? What, are you plumb loco?” Heather set her coffee cup down and the contents splashed over the side onto her hand. She licked the spill off it, speaking all through the incident. “She’s definitely going to get hurt, but not as bad as you are.”

  “Enough with threatening to hurt me, Heather. You couldn’t hurt a fly, or even a flea like me.” Josh rolled his eyes. “We won’t be divorcing. We’ll get an annulment.”

  “You are a flea, but I didn’t mean I’d hurt you. I meant you’d have a gaping hole in your chest for the rest of eternity if you let that girl go. She’s infiltrated every part of you—it’s plain as day. She’s heart of your heart, flesh of your flesh, marrow of your bone—”

  “Enough.” If Heather had any idea how untrue that was, at least the joining of the flesh part, she wouldn’t joke. “I get it. And it’s not exactly where we’re at, emotionally.” At least Morgan wasn’t, from what Josh could tell. Sure, she’d planted a kiss on him last night on the couch, but it was a sleep kiss. She’d been in a dry spell, being married to him, no other dates to scratch her itch. There had been the kitchen kiss, but it was congratulatory. He’d kind of forced himself on her at the beach. Again, it was that whole congrats, you’re a bio-tech winner make-out. He couldn’t trust any of those displays of affection—especially after she explicitly told him to keep away from her from now on.

  He probably ha
d a hangdog expression on his face because Heather said, “It may not be where she’s at emotionally, although I’ve got my own guess, but it’s no doubt where you’re at. Women can sense these things, Josh. Trust me.” Heather sat back, picked up her cereal and took a big bite, satisfied with her assessment. “Besides,” she said through her crunching, “annulments aren’t just granted for any old reason. There has to be proof of fraud or something, doesn’t there?”

  “We’ll be able to get one.” Josh didn’t think he’d need to explain, but they were being so dense about it that finally he said, “If the marriage has never been consummated, it’s considered sufficient grounds if an annulment is sought.”

  Heather stifled a gasp and started to cough on her cereal and milk. It took her a second to calm down, and then she said, “Well, no wonder you’re such a basket case. Josh, I have had moments where I thought you were brilliant. This is not one of them.”

  “Ditto, dude.” Chip said through his Wheatabix then started to laugh, and it grew until it was annoying. Josh was sorry he’d told them anything, and his anger must have shown on his face because Chip calmed down and finally said, “Sorry, man, I can see this is serious to you. I’m just thrown off by how unexpected this all is. I mean, kapow! She is the hottest thing I’ve seen on your arm since you got that wicked sunburn in the summer after your freshman year of high school. And you’re married. Come on.”

  This was not making things any easier for Josh, and he pushed away from the table. His milk in his bowl was warm now and his cereal soggy anyway. He took his dishes to the kitchen and tried not to chuck them at the wall like he wanted to. “She’s a good girl. She’s saving herself for her real husband, not wasting herself on a fake one. I’m not going to disrespect that.” Much as it was killing him to do so.

  Besides. She doesn’t want me. He now resigned himself to that fact.

  Heather was at his side, and she pulled him into a hug. “Sorry for treating it lightly. I can see you’re in serious doubt here.” She pulled back and hopped up on the counter, taking an apple from the basket and tossing it to him. “Tell me what’s really going on in your head.”

  “I don’t know. That’s the problem.” Josh squeezed the apple so hard it would have crushed if it had been mealy, but it was fresh.

  “Let me see if I can recap. Tell me if I’m right or wrong. You went into this planning to use it as a way to get your education so you could please Brielle and finish school, and then you and Brielle could move forward in your relationship. Right so far?”

  Pretty much right. He didn’t like the assessment that he was only back in school to please Brielle, but it was true. He gave a shallow nod.

  “Okay, then things changed when you and Morgan had to move in together, against both of your wills, but still it complicated things because she’s this sweet girl, and super attractive, and now you’re not a hundred percent Team Brielle anymore, and you’re feeling guilty.”

  Morgan was more than sweet and hot, like a description of Thai food—she was smart and funny and knew what made him tick—but Heather wasn’t wrong. “Okay, that’s close enough.”

  “So, what do you want?”

  “I don’t know.” But suddenly he did know what he wanted. “I want to know if Morgan is interested or if she’s just being nice to me. She’s pretty nice to everyone.” From the way she made older people feel important to how she called and found out Josh’s favorite food, Morgan was a nice girl. But she was to everyone. In fact, she hadn’t proposed this whole thing for her own benefit—wasn’t this whole thing contrived so that Tory could start school and not have to wait another year? And she’d been so nice about her mom’s sick dog, and she considered Mr. Seagram’s feelings, and everyone else’s. She was nice. How was Josh supposed to know where her niceness stopped and her true interest kicked in?

  He might have a sudden wildfire blazing inside him for Morgan, one that was going to be almost unquenchable at this rate living together and seeing her daily, but his logical mind was strong enough to put out the conflagration of emotion and passion singeing him.

  Logic told him these two women were like car payments. If he switched loyalties now from Brielle to Morgan, it would be like getting that incredible rush of buying a new sports car, one with a raspberry red paint job and a fantastic grille. However, for years Josh had been making payments on a daily driver he could count on: Brielle. Now and then he’d driven so-called sports cars before meeting Brielle and they all only had wanted him for his connection to the Hyatt money. Brielle had stood by him even after Bronco’s big edict, and that made her the safe, right, solid, steady choice. He was committed to paying off that reliable sedan’s car loan. In a similar way, now that he was a semester deep in his new major, he was determined to power through and get that foreign policy degree.

  Josh ignored the part of his logic that hollered that Morgan took him when he was penniless and didn’t even know his name—because she only did it as a business arrangement, and despite the kissing, he had nothing to convince himself otherwise.

  “Yeah, Morgan’s probably just nice to everyone.” Josh was a mere business associate.

  “No one can find that out besides you. I mean, she might tell a friend, but it would be hearsay, and you’d never be convinced.”

  “That’s probably true.” The research scientist part of Josh would insist on getting his own results from his own experimentation, no matter what anyone else said—except Morgan. But she was so reticent about most things, he doubted she’d come out and say anything.

  One thing was clear, though. Until he was sure about whether he planned to go All-Morgan, he’d better keep his distance when the sun went down. That kiss in the night was proof he’d be likely to repeat it any evening she sat on the sofa doing homework in front of the fire. Otherwise, the annulment plans were toast, and so was Brielle’s trust.

  “You have room on your couch for me for a few nights?”

  “I guess so. Running away won’t answer your question though, Josh.” Heather took an apple for herself. “All I know is you’d better figure out what you want, or someone is going to get hurt.”

  Josh didn’t admit it aloud, but it might be himself.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  On Friday night late, Morgan woke to a noise rattling in the kitchen. The big, empty house didn’t generally have quirks or creaks, so it had to be someone, a person, making that noise. Josh hadn’t been around since Monday morning when they went to get coffee, and Morgan had almost given him up for dead. She tugged the covers tight over her head, glad for the first time that she never dared sleep in the master bedroom because an intruder wouldn’t think to find her in a guest room.

  A sound of metal on glass sounded again, shooting terror through her veins. Oh, her kingdom for a baseball bat! She had to know who it was—and she’d have to call the police if someone was here robbing Mr. Seagram of his property. Well, someone besides Morgan and Josh, that was. Much as she trembled, she had to see what was going on—just a peek.

  With all the stealth she could manage she crept down the hall to the top of the stairs where she could see down into the kitchen. A light was on! Some burglar—what kind of idiot thief turned on a light? And it couldn’t be a horror movie killer. They all knew the best way to attack was to keep the lights off.

  Another dropped item’s clamor was followed by a soft swear word. It was a man’s voice. There was a man in her house! Her blood froze in her veins and her fingernails were digging against the grain of the wood floor’s planks. Please don’t let him come upstairs. Please don’t let him come up here.

  The grandfather clock’s ticking had never sounded so loud. Or maybe that was her heart and it had moved right up next to her ears. Please let him take what he wants and go away. Please. She sent a prayer heavenward.

  Then, the guy stumbled into view. The brown hair and build were familiar.

  “Joshua!” Morgan gasped, at which point, Josh’s head snapped in her direction, and
he dropped the stoneware plate he was holding, letting it clatter and break on the flagstone flooring. “What are you doing?”

  In two seconds she was down the stairs and had thrown her arms around his neck. “Where have you been? I was convinced by Tuesday morning you’d up and died in some horrible bloody car wreck, and I would never see you again.” Or that he’d jetted off to Germany to be with the woman he really loved, she’d thought but didn’t say aloud. “I’m so glad you’re all right.” She pressed her head into the little indentation between his shoulder and chest, where it fit exactly. His arms at first didn’t embrace her—he probably didn’t expect to have a woman in a nightie throwing herself at him like this—but then he pressed her to him.

  “Yeah, sorry about that. I, uh, went to see my brother for a day or two.”

  “Chip? Is he all right?” Suddenly she laughed. “Sorry, I’m all keyed up. I heard the noise and thought you were some kind of break-in. I’ll calm down now.” She was such an idiot. “Clearly, you’re fine, and I’m overreacting to everything. I do that when suddenly awakened from a deep sleep.” It had been more than a day or two that Josh had been at Chip’s—or had been avoiding her.

  “Sorry to wake you,” he said again. “I was just grabbing dinner on my lunch break.”

  “Lunch.” Morgan bent down and started picking up the broken pieces of plate and the scattered parts of his ham sandwich. He bent down to help. “Luckily stoneware doesn’t shatter much.”

  “I’ve, uh—they put me on the night shift at the water treatment plant, so I had to couch surf at my manager’s place, too.” He tossed the debris in the trash. “I’m not going to be on the same schedule with you much for a while.”