by Kait Nolan
“To be clear, I’m not talking about marriage in name only, if that’s what you’re wondering. I think it’s pretty obvious I’m attracted to you. If we do this, we are married, and I expect exclusivity and all the—shall we say, benefits—that go with it.”
His expression shifted to one of such hunger, Piper began to wonder if she could get an advance on those benefits.
“One way or the other, I’m not interested in being with anyone but you.”
“Same goes,” she agreed.
They stared at each other, her waiting, him apparently out of questions.
“And I thought the setup you pulled on Tyler and Brody was nuts.” Myles shook his head.
Piper shrugged with more nonchalance than she felt. “It was just a suggestion.”
“What if someone here finds out?”
“Which part?” Was he embarrassed about the idea of being married to her?
“The whole secretly married and not actually living together part. That brings up all kinds of questions and awkwardness. I don’t want to make things weird for you with your family.”
She snorted. “Sweetie, things are permanently weird for me with my family. The idea that I had a husband would be the first thing I’d ever done they thought was right or proper, no matter how it came about. I am the ultimate black sheep there, so don’t let that deter you. And either way, I don’t see how they’d find out. You’ve said yourself your family never comes here. Well, except apparently your sister, and it’d be easy enough to stay over when she does.”
Myles stared. “You’ve got it all figured out, don’t you?”
“It’s just not that complicated.”
“Not that—Your mind works in devious ways, Piper Parish. It’s one of the things that fascinates me.”
“I’m not afraid of risk. You already know that about me, so none of this should come as a surprise to you.”
“Oh, I have a feeling you’ll still be surprising me in fifty years.” He scrambled up. “Be right back.”
Future tense. Not just the possibility of it. He was going to bite.
Oh boy.
Because her throat was dry, Piper popped the top on her Coke and took a long swallow. He was right. This was completely nuts. She’d just proposed what was essentially a marriage of convenience. It was well-intentioned, of course. But like all of her crazy schemes, it had the potential to backfire. Did she really want to go through with this?
What’s the worst that could happen? We get divorced and I lose his friendship. I’d hate it, but I got along just fine without him before. I could do it again. Isn’t it worth the risk to help him save his business and the jobs of everyone who works for him? And what if it turns out to be the real deal?
Myles crawled back inside the blanket fort, this time settling beside her. “Give me your hand,” he ordered.
She gave it without hesitation.
“You are, without a doubt, the single most interesting woman I’ve ever met. You’re funny, smart, gorgeous, and you’ve got the biggest heart of anyone I know. If you’re truly serious about this, I’d be honored if you’d be my partner in crime and marry me.” He held out a ring in his other hand. The diamond glinted in the glow from the TV behind him.
Piper’s mouth fell open. “You have a ring?” Her gaze shot back up to his. “Wait, why do you have a ring? Is there some failed engagement in your past I need to know about?”
He huffed a laugh. “No. Never got anywhere close to engaged before. It was my grandmother’s,” he explained. “Granddad got her a new set for their fiftieth anniversary and this came to me to pass on to the woman I want to marry. If I’m going to do this, I’m going to do it right. So, how ’bout it? You really want to go through with this?”
To actually marry this thoughtful, considerate, wickedly funny man in less than a month? “I really do.”
“Okay then.” He slid the ring onto her finger, then lifted her hand to his lips. “I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you won’t regret it.”
No matter what happened, Piper didn’t think she could possibly regret deciding to be with him. The weight of the band gave the whole situation an air of gravity she hadn’t expected. They both stared at it on her hand for several long moments.
“So. Really engaged,” she said, desperate to lighten the mood.
“Looks like.”
“Well, I definitely didn’t expect that when I left the house this morning. I didn’t even catch my cousin’s bouquet.”
“Second thoughts already?” His tone was wry and joking, but there was something else beneath it. Regret? A sense that this whole scenario was too good to be true?
“No.” Realizing she’d sounded less than convincing, she took his hand, waiting until he looked her in the eye to repeat it more firmly. “No.”
“If you change your mind, I’ll understand. It’s a pretty snap decision.”
Piper shook her head. “All of the best decisions in my life have been snap decisions. I’m good with this.”
His eyes searched her face. Evidently he saw whatever he needed to see because he relaxed and leaned back, tucking her into his side. “Okay then. Let’s finish our movie.”
Did he honestly think she’d be able to focus on a movie now? “Don’t we kind of have a lot of details to figure out?”
“Yeah, but they can wait for tomorrow. The countdown will begin soon enough. Tonight, let’s just get used to the idea that we’re about to jump into the deep end of the pool.”
Settling against him and tucking her head against his shoulder, she said, “Okay.” As long as you’re with me to help tread water.
Chapter 4
“Are you sure they shouldn’t at least meet me first?”
From the driver’s seat, Myles glanced over at Piper. “Why on Earth would I subject you to my family before the wedding?”
“Apart from the fact that it’s kinda the way things are done?”
“Since when do you care about tradition on that front?”
“Okay, fair point. But it would add to the legitimacy. If we just show up married, they’re bound to be suspicious. Whereas, if they’ve met me, gotten a chance to see that we’re besotted with each other and know we’re planning to get married, we can play off the elopement as a grand, spontaneous adventure and it’ll be less of a surprise.”
“Besotted?” He shot a glance at her, not sure whether he was offended by the term or not.
“What do you call spending every waking minute we’re not at work either together or on the phone or texting?”
“Strategic planning?” he suggested.
She arched one perfect brow and pursed those kissable lips. “Strategic planning does not involve copious fondling of my ass.”
“Well it should. It’s a very fine ass.”
“So’s yours, as it happens. And yes some of this last week has been planning and filling in the gaps in our knowledge about each other. But mostly we’ve been making up for that lost time in spectacular fashion. And loving every minute of it. Admit it.”
“You got me there.”
Piper grinned at him. “If the shoe fits, sweetheart.” She leaned across the center console to lay a smacking kiss on his cheek.
Her easy affection helped ease something in his chest. Since their engagement—Jesus, he still couldn’t quite wrap his head around that—Myles had worried some that she saw this whole thing as a giant, long-running role. But during the show, he’d learned the difference between when she was acting and when she was being herself. This vivacious, relaxed woman had really hitched her metaphoric wagon to his. He’d been splitting his time between enjoying the hell out of the ride and worrying it would blow up in their faces any minute.
“Fine, I’ll concede besotted. But I’m not bending on the rest. Not only because I don’t want any of the blowback to hit you, but also because my family is one of the ones that does tradition and all that pomp and circumstance you dislike about weddings. If they get wind of
it, my grandmother and mom will take over everything.”
“There’s this little two letter word. You might’ve heard of it. No.”
“You don’t know my grandmother. She’s a force of nature. It’s just simpler all around if we stick to the plan.” He pulled the car into the Wachoxee County Courthouse parking lot. “Okay, if you’re having second thoughts, now’s the time to back out.”
“I’m all in,” she said, without hesitation.
“You’re not nervous at all, are you?”
“No. Although we probably should’ve brought separate cars.”
“Why?”
“What if we run into people we know?”
“We’re forty-five minutes from Wishful. Who are we going to run into?”
“Need I remind you that Mississippi is one big small town? You never know.”
“You’re more likely than I am, and you’ve got those big movie star sunglasses blocking half your face and that scarf around your hair. It’s very Audrey Hepburn.”
She tipped those sunglasses down and peered over the top of them. “You should’ve worn a hat or something.”
“We’ll be in and out in a matter of minutes. It’ll be fine.” He slid a hand around her nape and tugged her closer, reveling in how readily she leaned into the kiss. Once Piper Parish made up her mind about something, she didn’t waffle.
“Mmm,” she purred. “Let’s go get a marriage license.”
The circuit clerk’s office was on the second floor, next door to the tax assessor’s office. Being mid-morning on a Tuesday, there wasn’t a line.
As they stepped inside, the clerk, a heavy-set, middle-aged woman beamed from behind the counter. “Can I help you?”
A public employee who actually likes their job. What a concept.
“Yes ma’am, we’d like to apply for a marriage license,” he said.
“Certainly. Here’s the application.” She passed a clipboard across the counter. “And I’ll need both your driver’s licenses.”
They handed the IDs over and took the clipboard over to a couple of vinyl covered chairs in the corner.
“You want to write or shall I?”
“My handwriting is probably neater,” Piper pointed out.
Myles handed the clipboard over.
“Full legal name.”
“Myles Beauregard Stewart.”
“Beauregard? Really?”
“I cannot be held accountable for my parents’ taste. What about you?”
“Piper Elizabeth.”
“So your initials are PEP?” He grinned. “Were you a cheerleader in high school?”
“I was not. Show choir. And now you know why I do not fall prey to the Southern addiction to monogramming.”
She filled in both their addresses, then paused. “Your parents’ names and address.”
“My parents? Why the hell do they need to know our parents information? I’m over thirty for God’s sake.”
“It’s probably to make sure we’re not cousins or something.”
Myles gave the information and watched her fill in her own.
“Mom’s maiden name?” she asked.
“Myles.”
“Ah, you’re one of those, huh?”
“First born. It’s a thing. I consider myself the lucky one. Also on the table was Clifton. I mean, really. Clifton Stewart?”
“I take your point. Highest grade completed in school? Bachelors or Masters?”
“Masters from Columbia.”
“Columbia, huh? And how did you enjoy The Big Apple?”
“I missed the hell out of Southern cooking. Great night life, though,” he admitted. “Anything else?”
“Am I correct in assuming there’s no previous marriages hanging out in your closet that you’ve failed to mention?”
“Nope.”
“Me either. Okay, we’re done.” Piper crossed to the counter and handed the application over.
“I’ll just go get this typed up. You wait right there. Oh, and the fee is fifty dollars. Cash only.”
Piper turned back to him. “Uh oh. Did you bring cash?”
“Got it covered. Come sit with me, future Mrs. Stewart. Although, under the circumstances, I guess you’re not changing your name, are you?”
“I hadn’t thought about it yet.” She sat, lacing her fingers through his. “But yeah, under the circumstances, I guess it doesn’t make sense.”
“If things were different, would you want to? Take my name, I mean.” He didn’t know why it mattered, really. He understood all the reasons a woman might not want to take her husband’s name, but a part of him was still old-fashioned enough to wish she’d at least want to, even if it wasn’t practical.
“I’m not attached to my maiden name, and I always figured I’d end up taking my husband’s name when I married just as part of that whole forging a unit thing—unless it sounded ridiculous with Piper or was something heinous. There’s this one girl I went to high school with who’s now Amber Hopper Butts. I am pretty positive I can’t love anybody enough to take the last name Butts.”
Myles laughed. “Don’t blame you there.”
“But yes, if things were different, I’d take your name.”
He lifted the hand he held to his lips. “Is it crazy that this is starting to feel less crazy? I keep waiting for reality to kick in, but all I can think about is you.” How was it that in so little time together, she’d so thoroughly worked her way under his skin, into the very fabric of his life?
She shifted her hand to cup his cheek, staring into his eyes in a rare moment of seriousness. “Nothing great is ever gained without risk. You’re worth the risk.”
Had anyone ever believed in him that much? Certainly not his family. He had no idea what he’d done to deserve her faith.
“Piper, I—”
“Here we go,” said the clerk.
They crossed to the counter, still holding hands.
“I just need to get your signatures. You here, Mr. Stewart.”
Myles signed where she indicated and passed the pen to Piper.
“And you just there, Ms. Parish.”
Squeezing his hand, she scrawled her name.
The clerk, whose name plate read Dotty, took the cash and did whatever recording needed doing before handing the license over in an envelope. “You’re all set. When’s the happy day?”
“Oh, we haven’t quiet set the date yet.” Piper grinned. “We’re eloping.”
Dotty beamed. “Congratulations and best of luck to both of you.”
They thanked her and stepped out into the hall.
“Well, that feels all official,” he said.
“Are you having second thoughts?” she asked, one brow lifted.
Myles tucked her hand in his arm and smiled. “Not a one.”
He made it all of two steps before someone stepped out of the tax assessor’s office into their path.
“Oh excuse me,” the woman said, turning toward them.
“That’s quite al—” He trailed off as recognition hit him. Oh please don’t—
“Why, Myles Stewart! I’d heard you were back in Mississippi after all these years. How’s your grandmother doing?”
“She’s just fine, Mrs. Healy.” Escape, escape. Must escape.
“I saw that feature Mississippi Magazine did on her gardens. They’re as lovely as ever.”
“Yes ma’am.” Myles wracked his brain for some kind of polite exit strategy before she started asking more questions.
The older women turned inquisitive eyes on Piper. “And who’s this lovely young thing?”
Too late.
Before he could think of a reply, Piper offered her hand with a friendly smile. “Piper Parish. It’s lovely to meet you Mrs. Healy. I’m so sorry to meet and dash, but I’m late getting back to work and Myles is being kind enough to drop me off.”
She towed him, politely but firmly, down the hall, even as he called back, “Good to see you, Mrs. Healy. My best to Mr.
Healy.”
Neither of them spoke again until they were in the car.
“‘It’ll be fine,’ you said. ‘Who will we run into?’ you said.” Piper shot a glance back toward the courthouse. “Is that going to be a problem?”
“No. They were friends of my grandparents forever ago. They moved from Madison around the time I left for college, and I don’t think she and my grandmother have been in touch since.”
“And yet she’d heard you were back in Mississippi.”
“That’s probably because of the feature article about it in Something Southern.”
“Something Southern did an article on you?”
“Despite my black sheep status in my own family, the rest of society seems to think I’m an eligible bachelor.”
“Were,” she corrected.
He liked the possessive gleam in her eye. “Were, indeed. Let’s get you back to work.”
~*~
“That’s the eighth victim of this particular brand of cold in the last two days. I think we’d better get ready for a streak.” Dr. Miranda Campbell scooped a hand through her thick blonde hair.
“Stock up on Kleenex and antibacterial wipes. Check.” Shelby Abbott, the clinic office manager, scribbled a note on her ever-present list.
“How are we on the peroxide wipes and spray?” Piper asked, repressing a smile at the incoming text from Myles: Prepping for staff meeting. Nerf dart gun or koosh balls?
Never a dull day around The Observer.
“Low.”
“Might want to add those, too,” Piper suggested, rather wishing they had time for horseplay at their own staff meetings. “We haven’t had a stomach bug in a couple of months. That always makes me nervous. It’s coming.”
“Fair point,” Shelby conceded.
“Anything else I need to know about?” Miranda asked this with a pointed glance at Piper.
“What?” Piper asked, slipping the phone back into her pocket without answering the text.
“Just wondering when you’re going to tell us who this mystery guy is you’ve been texting like a teenager. I’m working too much to date, so I’m living vicariously through you.”
“How do you know it’s a guy I’m texting?” she asked, all innocence.