Chapter 10
“We can’t do this, Aaron. It’s off.”
“You’re breaking up with me?” Aaron dropped his hands from my arms. Poor guy, he’d thought he’d been about to get lucky since we were standing in his bedroom, but instead, I put an end to every fantasy he may have had.
I just wasn’t comfortable being that fantasy.
“Don’t be a smart ass, Aaron. We can’t keep this up. People will be hurt.”
“Who?”
“You’re mother, for one.”
We were facing off at the end of Aaron’s very large bed. His room smelled like pine and wood and books. It was understated opulence and masculinity. It was also exceedingly distracting.
“How will this hurt her?”
“Well, you’ll be lying to her in addition to committing a crime.”
“So?”
“So? Didn’t you hear what I said?”
“I heard and I don’t care. I want to marry you. I like you. I think you’re smart, and funny, and incredibly sexy. So where’s the crime? I would be genuinely sad if you got deported, sure, and I want to help you, but I’m also very happy to be marrying you. People who like each other way less than I like you have gotten married.”
“Yeah but… Wait… No… You’re trying to confuse me.”
“No, I’m not.” He was undoing his tie and throwing it across a chair. “Do you like me?”
“Of course I like you.”
“Do you want me to have what I want in life, say, a successful career?” He already sat on the chair and pulled off his shoes and socks and was unbuttoning his shirt sleeves.
“Sure, I do.”
“Are you embarrassed by me, ashamed of me or lying to me in any way that might be misleading me?” He was unbuttoning the shirt itself and I realized I had not yet seen his naked chest and I was preparing myself. I could tell it would be a thing of beauty. Not to mention, a distraction.
This, come to think of it, was probably exactly what he was counting on.
“Not at all.”
There it was, the perfect torso. Firm and chiseled. Not six-pack work-out-freak material, but nice and firm and God, I hoped I wasn’t drooling.
“So what’s the problem?”
“We don’t love each other,” I said.
“Like that’s a criteria for marriage. Love.” He almost snorted his derision.
“Well, here in this part of the world it kind of is.”
“Really? Do you think, for example, that Ophelia loves Rick?”
“Well, no. But that’s only one example.”
“One of millions. People marry for money. They marry for social standing. They marry to escape, or because they’re pregnant… People marry every day for loads of reasons that don’t have anything to do with love.”
“Unfortunately, the people at Immigration like you to marry for love.” I took a breath. “And do not remove those pants, buddy.”
“Why not? Too distracting? Don’t worry; I’m not commando under here.”
“Look.” I took a deep breath and expunged the commando thoughts. “All I’m saying is that people expect us to be marrying because we love each other.”
“Well, people can expect whatever the hell they like, Piper. Do people regularly do what you expect them to do? My experience in life is that people constantly surprise me. For example, right now I’m surprised you want to back out on me because you think my mother will be hurt. She hasn’t exactly bent over backwards to welcome you.” He peeled down his pants and revealed soft gray boxers.
“That may be, but she’s your mother, and just because she’s an ice-queen, doesn’t mean she doesn’t have your best interests at heart. I don’t want to come between you two.”
“And that is exactly why I want to marry you.” He walked around the bed and put a hand on my shoulders. “You’re not selfish and you’re not mean. You’re in a situation where years of your hard work are under threat and still you’re thinking about others. You’re a good person and so am I, believe it or not. So we’re going to get married and live happily ever after or for as long as it’s expedient for both of us.”
“You think they can work that expedient bit into the vows?” I teased.
“I’ll talk to the celebrant.”
“You’re a prince.”
“Are you coming to bed?”
I wasn’t really looking forward to having Aaron half-naked and in close proximity—well, since I wasn’t planning on enjoying the view—but that given his mother was down the hall, I couldn’t really avoid it. The view, that is.
I went into the bathroom and changed into a t-shirt and some leggings, covering up as much as he wasn’t. When I came out, he was lying in wait—well, he was lying in bed, arms behind his head, that magnificent chest bared, goofy grin on his face. The blankets were flicked back on my side in invitation. He was right: - the bed was large enough that, with a bit of luck and some strategically placed pillows, he’d stay safely on his side. I started to erect a nice pillow barrier between us.
“It’s like that movie with Clark Cable and Claudette Colbert,” I said sliding under the covers and pulling them under my chin.
“What movie?”
“It’s an old classic, About Last Night.”
“I’ll have to watch it. Do they end up together?”
“I don’t remember the ending.” I lied. Of course they did. It was the 1930s. It was Clark Gable.
“Okay, well, sweet dreams, Piper. Thanks for being a sport about my work and my family.”
“Cherie told me you were unencumbered, but I don’t think she had a clue.”
“Probably not. Most people are at least a little more encumbered than you imagine.”
“Not me,” I said kind of wistfully. It made me kind of sad. Here I was, a stranger in a strange land. I had a couple of friends to my name and a handful of employees and that was it. Once I got my business sorted and survived this marriage, I’d be sure to make an effort to go out and make new friends because I had to admit, it was kind of nice having someone wonder where I was at the end of each day.
Any Way You Slice It Page 10