by Leddy Harper
“I’m so confused.” She threaded her fingers into her hair and then fisted her hands, gripping the strands by the roots in pure frustration. “We planned on being together? That’s what we discussed? Both of us?”
I took a moment before answering, knowing my response would give so much away, but I no longer cared. All these feelings were buried so long ago, and after her prolonged absence, I knew they’d never be uncovered. Nothing could dig them up.
“Yes. I told you that night, but since you don’t remember, I might as well explain it now. After that asshat broke up with you before prom, and we started spending more time together, I began to fall for you in ways I never expected. Ways I’m infinitely sure would have had your brother kicking my ass. But you needed me, and I very much enjoyed the feeling of being needed. We kinda grew a bond over those months, and as we stood along the strip, watching the fountain dance in front of the Bellagio, we realized it was a mutual attraction. One we thought would last forever. So, we decided to make it official, and at that time, the only obstacle in our way was college. Which is why we made the deal to begin with.”
Her posture softened, and I wondered what part had gotten to her. “Did we like…say the L word?”
“No.” I smiled and shook my head, hoping to ease her fears.
Only problem was, that had been a lie. We did use that word—several times in fact. She’d even screamed it one of the four times in bed. But that wasn’t something I wanted to throw in her face, no matter how much I wanted to get back at her. Truth be told, I didn’t even know why I was so angry with her in the first place other than her refusal to visit her family.
“If you choose to take me up on my offer and stay, you’ll have your own room, your own space. My agreement doesn’t include sex—I have no problems getting that when I need it. I just ask that you participate in things. That you spend time with your parents and siblings. Hang out with your nieces and nephew. Don’t worry about this.” I waved my hand between us. “I work all the time, so it’s not like you’ll even see me often. The six months will go by, and before you know it, you’ll be a single woman, free to marry whoever you want for any reason you’d like. And hopefully, you’ll have a stronger relationship with your family.”
“And I have your word on that?”
“Absolutely. A thousand percent.”
“And no sex?”
“None.” I cleared my throat and amended my answer. “With each other.”
She nodded and licked her lips, her gaze falling from mine. I knew I had her, but I needed to hear her say it. She had to tell me she would live with me, as my pseudo-wife, for the full amount of time I requested. “Okay, but we’ll need rules before I agree to anything.”
“Of course.” I held my hand out in a gesture for her to take a seat on the couch while I once again reclaimed my spot in the recliner. After pulling out my laptop from beneath the coffee table, I opened the lid and began to type. “All right… Over the course of the next six months, you—Janelle Brewer—will live in my house as my wife. During this time, there will be no expectations for sexual favors between either of us. What else?”
“Maybe you should add in there that you won’t bring your ‘dates’ home with you. You have to see how awkward it would be to sit in my room while you have a woman in your bed. Or how odd it’d be to introduce your piece of ass to your wife after you get done screwing.” She held my gaze the entire time she taunted me, all while a grin remained on her face.
“Well, I obviously wouldn’t want to make anything uncomfortable for you. I’ll include that I won’t bring anyone here, and the same goes for you.” I nodded at her before adding her request to the Word document I’d opened, aptly titled The Marriage Agreement. I glanced back up at her and winked. “You’ll also be pleased to know I’ve put in here that I will not flaunt or brag about my escapades, such as shooting you a text telling you I’m about to get my dick sucked.”
“Oh, how nice of you.” She may have said it with a smile, but I hadn’t seen anything faker since my last date’s set of tits. She crossed her arms and gave me a pointed stare. “Okay then. Next rule. Bills. I don’t currently have a job, and you’re stifling my ability to make money. So unfortunately, I won’t be able to contribute financially.”
My fingers tapped away at the keys, the sound filling the silence in the room. When I finished adding her requested rule, I repeated it back to her. “Okay, no paying bills. I’ve also included that items, such as food or things for the house, are also not your responsibility. You’re more than welcome to pick up anything you want from the grocery store—for you or the house in general, like milk or bread—and I’ll cover the cost.”
“And by ‘things for the house,’ you mean…”
“If you need a pillow or blanket for your bed. Or towels for the bathroom. Laundry detergent. Light bulbs. I don’t know, Janelle…anything you’d need while living here.” I was almost sure I’d regret this idea, but she’d come too far to turn back now. One thing was for sure though, the more she pushed, the harder I’d shove.
This was a war she didn’t want to get into with me.
I’d fucking win.
“Sounds good to me. Moving along now. You’re a grown man. I will not clean up after you. That means you wash your own clothes, you clean your own toilet, and make your own bed.”
“I had no intention of you being my maid, but sure, I’ll include it anyway.” Keeping my thoughts to myself, I added that to the list. Word for word. “Now, I have some rules. You are here temporarily. That means no permanent alterations to my house. I don’t care to repaint walls or patch holes left behind by some ugly-as-sin decoration you felt the need to put up. At the end of the day, this is my house. You are more than welcome to make yourself at home while you’re here. You can add pillows to the couch, move the furniture around in your room, add a DVD player to the TV, or decorate the patio with potted plants. I don’t care. Go crazy. But please, all I ask is that you don’t use my property to get back at me.”
She may have nodded, but I could tell by her meek voice that I had hurt her feelings when she asked, “Anything else?”
“That’s it. That’s all I ask of you, Janelle. I don’t want this to be like I’m holding you hostage or making you my prisoner.”
“Well, you kinda are.”
“If that’s the way you’re going to look at it, then it’s going to be a long six months. But if you treat it like a free place to stay, an extended vacation—free vacation, might I add—with a clean divorce at the end, then the time will fly by. It’s all in how you perceive it.”
“I just don’t understand your motive for this, but whatever.”
“Listen, I have my reasons for wanting you here, for not wanting to sign those papers, just like you have yours for marrying some stranger for money. There’s no point in us debating the issue further because neither of us will get it. I only hope that in six months, you’ll see for yourself why I asked for this—because if you don’t, then that means I’ve failed you and your family.”
“And when does this start?”
I closed the lid to the laptop and set it aside. “The day you move in,” I answered, sitting forward with my elbows propped on my knees, my hands hanging between my legs.
“I have a question…how are we going to explain this to my family? What’s our story?”
“Let’s come up with one. I’m sure you don’t want them knowing about Vegas, and I assume you don’t want them to find out about this dating show…right?”
“That’s correct.” She couldn’t even look me in the eye, which told me so much about the shame she felt over the fact she’d be twice divorced before she turned twenty-five. “We can just tell them you offered me a spare room for a few months while I get on my feet after college. I can just tell my mom I didn’t want to inconvenience her by moving back in.”
“Your ability to form lies is worrisome,” I mumbled with my sights locked on her.
She glanc
ed up and caught me staring, more than likely heard my grumble, but at least she ignored it with a swift flitter of her exotic eyes. “And when’s this going to happen? When am I moving in?”
“Whenever you want. Just keep in mind I’m not signing those papers until you’ve lived here for six months. The timer doesn’t start until your things are here and you’re sleeping under this roof. But the when is completely up to you.”
“Okay. I have to sort some things out. I might have to find somewhere to store the rest of my belongings until I need them again.” She glanced around my small starter home. “I’m not sure everything will fit in here.”
I ran my hand over my face, hoping to hide the anxiety rushing through my body. Ever since Matt got married and moved out, I had lived alone, hadn’t shared my space with a single soul. Not even a dog. Especially not a girl. More importantly, a girl who would more than likely try to one up me. I needed to figure out a way to make her back down long enough to see the bigger picture.
So…I decided to kill her with kindness.
“That’s your call. If I have room here for it, you’re more than welcome to bring everything with you. I have a guestroom with a bed and dresser that has been used maybe twice when my mom came to visit. But if you’d rather have your own furniture, I can move my desk and computer out of my office. Just let me know ahead of time so I can get things rearranged, if need be.”
There didn’t seem to be anything else to say. After we swapped phone numbers, she shoved the envelope containing the divorce papers back into her purse and left. I stood by the front door and watched her drive away, unsure of what had transpired.
I figured this idea would blow up in my face, but for the small chance things would go right, I knew I had to see it through. Her family needed her, and they meant enough to me to sacrifice my own feelings to make sure they got what they deserved.
I only hoped I would survive.
4
Janelle
It was move-in day. The day I started my jail sentence. And yes, it was a sentence—six months without parole. I was being forced to live with a man who could melt the panties off a nun. As if that weren’t bad enough, he also happened to be the only guy I’d ever truly loved. Ever since the last time I allowed myself to fall for his charm, I’d practically sworn off men. If he hurt me again, there was a good chance I’d join a convent. So…I basically needed to remind myself of the third-degree burn his rejection caused in the past in order to get through my stay with him.
Lucky for me, I already had everything packed and in storage. There hadn’t been much time between the last of my classes and my departure for the dating show. So it only took about a week to get everything in place and ready to move into Holden’s house. The one thing I knew from the very beginning was I had no intention of making this easy for him. After leaving Holden’s house, I’d called Connor to inform him of the change in plans. He didn’t like it any more than I did, but for a very different reason. My issues with the arrangement surrounded the fear of falling for Holden all over again, but Connor disliked the idea of it because that meant he’d have to wait that much longer to get his money. Where I’d resigned to my fate, he brainstormed a plethora of ways to make Holden’s life hell in the hopes he’d sign the papers sooner.
If this was what he wanted, this was what he’d get.
First order of attack was to bring everything with me and expect him to accommodate it all.
Which, to my surprise, he did.
Following Connor’s orders, I’d sold my full-sized bed and purchased a queen, along with the matching dresser, chest of drawers, and two nightstands, knowing he wouldn’t have the space in his office for a complete bedroom set. I’d also included a very worn and extremely outdated loveseat and patio table with only three chairs that I “couldn’t bear to part with.” As if that wasn’t bad enough, I loaded everything up in a moving truck, along with the bags upon bags of clothes that had outfitted a walk-in closet, and had Connor drive it all to Holden’s house while I followed behind in my car.
Unfortunately, I had taken a little longer than Connor and arrived the next day. I had to admit I hated to miss the look on Holden’s face when Connor introduced himself, but at least I got a play by play after all was said and done. Apparently, Holden didn’t seem too happy, though he didn’t do or say anything.
As I arrived at my new—albeit temporary—address, I was practically giddy, eager to see what he’d done with all my belongings. The first thing I noticed after walking through the front door was the absence of my loveseat in the living room. I was about to make a comment about it when he led me through the house on our way to my bedroom, and low and behold, he had the hideous loveseat set up in the formal room. It was off from the main part of the house just outside the second and third bedrooms. Then, he showed me what would be my room for the next six months. Only I discovered he’d moved the smaller set from the guest bedroom into his office and given me the bigger room that would hold the larger furniture.
The smug grin toying with the corners of his mouth gave him away. He’d figured me out, and this was his way of showing me he was one step ahead. That was fine, it just meant I had to up my game. There was no way he’d last longer than a month before signing the papers and begging me to get out.
“Your patio table actually fit inside my gazebo in the back yard perfectly. Although, there wasn’t room for the chairs since it has built-in seating, so I stored the three of yours in the garage. And speaking of the garage, would you like to park in there or are you okay with the driveway?”
I hated how accommodating he was being. It made me feel like a bitch. Even though I’d basically gone out of my way to make him regret his decision, I wasn’t normally this conniving or vindictive. This just proved how far Holden had pushed me. I didn’t like being blackmailed or forced to do things I wasn’t interested in, but if he wanted a wife, then I’d give him one.
He more than likely expected someone like Christine, a woman who absolutely adored her man. She took care of my brother better than anyone could, and made sure he knew how much she loved him. But if Holden thought I’d dote on him the way Christine doted on Matt, he had another thing coming. I had no desire to pamper anyone, let alone the one basically holding me against my will.
“The driveway is fine.” While I did prefer the garage, I knew if I said that, he’d make it happen, and then once again, he’d be the good guy and I’d be the needy houseguest. I realized within the first five minutes that I had to rapidly change my approach if I wanted to speed this along.
He showed me the second bathroom tucked away between the bedrooms that would be for my use during my stay, and then he led me back to the kitchen. He stood on one side of the breakfast bar, and I leaned against the other while he gave me my own set of keys and garage door opener. Then he went over the rules he’d typed up the last time I was here, all printed out with his signature along the bottom like a professional contract outlining the terms of our agreement. Lastly, he went over the little details, such as where he kept everything. Again, very hospitable.
“I stocked the fridge with Pepsi for you, because I know you hate coffee. If there’s anything else you like to have on hand that I don’t have, either shoot me a text with the list to pick up when I get time, or I can leave you with money for grocery shopping.”
No matter how much it pissed me off that he looked like the hero and I was left to be portrayed as the nasty, estranged wife, I couldn’t seem to draw my attention away from him. Clearly dressed for work in a pressed, button-down shirt and tie, paired with form-fitting black, pinstriped pants, he looked like sex on legs. Sex on legs that ended in a very expensive pair of shiny black shoes. Sex in a suit. Sex with oh-so-sexy bedhead.
“Janelle…” It was enough to catch my attention and make me aware of the fact I’d zoned out. He leaned over the counter, his face dangerously close to mine, which only made the need to touch him worse. Add in the palpable scent of peppermint wafting
off him, and I was a goner. “You’ll be okay?”
“Yeah. Yup. I sure will. Perfectly fine. Why? Where ya going?”
He picked at the corner of a piece of paper with his short fingernail and chuckled beneath his breath. With a quick shake of his head, he slapped the countertop and said, “Good. See ya later.” And as if someone lit a fire under his ass, he pulled a set of keys from his pocket and made a beeline toward the front door.
“Wait! You never answered me. Where are you going?”
He stilled by the door and peered over his shoulder with the kind of smile any woman would gladly part their legs for. “I did tell you. You weren’t listening. I have to get back to the office to catch up on some work. I’ll probably be there late since I had to take off yesterday and this morning.”
“What’s considered late?” Suddenly, the idea of being in his home alone terrified me.
“After dinner. If you’re in bed by the time I get home, I’ll see you after work tomorrow.”
“Hold on.” I took a few steps in his direction as if I needed him for protection. “What do you mean you’ll see me tomorrow? Will you really get home that late? What time do you think you’ll get done with work tomorrow?”
“I’ve missed an entire day. On top of that, I’ve had to leave early on a couple occasions because I had to move around all the furniture so all we had to do was move yours in. I have quite a bit to catch up on, and there’s a chance I won’t get it all done until nine or ten o’clock tonight. I’m trying to finish today so I won’t have to stay late any other day and leave you here alone. If everything goes as planned, I should be able to pull a really long day today—which wouldn’t have been as long if I didn’t have to go in late—and be home tomorrow by six.” He paused, probably to make sure I heard him point out the sacrifices he’d made on my behalf. “You have my number if you need anything, and the address to my office is on the piece of paper along with the number to my direct line.”