by SL Beabhar
They stared at each other. The silence thickened as the situation truly became real to her. This man, a man she'd only known for two weeks, was going to be her husband.
"If for some reason we don't make it the full five years, I'll make arrangements for you and Reggie."
She shook her head. "You don't think we'll get along?"
He laughed and pushed to his feet. He walked to where she sat and offered her his hand. Phoebe stared at his palm, then dragged her gaze up to his eyes. She placed her hand into his and his fingers immediately closed around hers, enveloping her with his warmth and strength.
Ash pulled her to her feet, bringing her very close to his body. Dropping her hand, he grasped her forearms, and she found herself leaning into him.
"What I mean," Ash said, licking his lips, "is that if something happens to me, then you'll be taken care of. I don't expect to deploy for another year or so, but we'll talk more about that when the time comes."
Dread filled Phoebe's stomach as she looked at him. She knew he was in the military, but it hadn't really crossed her mind that he could be deployed anytime soon. And, it certainly never entered her thoughts that when he left her life, it wouldn't be due to a mutually agreed upon parting.
It disturbed her. She'd known him for such a short time, but she already cared about him. Even if it was just a teensy-weensy bit.
"So when are we going to do this?" she asked, raising her head and straightening her back. She wasn't one to indulge in the unknown. She rarely enjoyed surprises, and she hated feeling unprepared, but she was committed to seeing this through.
It was just for five years. Just five years. Dear God. It was five years.
She was so caught up in her growing anxiety that she hadn't noticed when Ash had shifted even closer to her. Her face was nearly pressed into the crook of his neck. One of his arms was now wrapped around her waist and rested at her pelvis. His nose and mouth were brushing the fine hairs at her temple.
She flinched, which only resulted in him tightening his arm. She could practically feel his heart beating through his crisp blue shirt. "Earlier you mentioned something about us... you know... having sex."
"Uh huh." His lips were now touching her skin. With his right arm resting at her pelvis, his free hand hung to his side, leaving her room to escape if she wanted to. But she didn't.
"I think I better set some ground rules around that."
"Mm hmm," he murmured. His lips were now at her cheekbone, and they were inching closer to her mouth.
She pulled away, not entirely breaking their embrace, but putting distance between herself and those glorious lips. "We should think of this as a business relationship."
One of his dark brows arched. "Meaning?"
She planted her palms against his chest and pushed him away.
Ash fell back a step. His jaw tightened for just a moment but then he grinned roguishly. "Everything's negotiable."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Ash walked into the kitchen with his laptop in his hands. He placed it on the kitchen island, right beside the bowl of green beans that Phoebe had just rinsed off. With a dramatic flair, he flipped up the lid and turned the laptop so the monitor was visible to her.
From the corner of his eye, he watched her prepare their dinner. Her black hair was piled on top of her head in the usual messy bun. He'd ever seen it hanging loose around her shoulders, and he wondered how long it was. She was wearing an old pair of faded denim overalls with a white tank top underneath.
To his surprise, and utter delight, he enjoyed the simplicity of her style. She always seemed so fresh and clean. Totally uncomplicated when he compared her to his exes.
This woman, so unlike the women of his past, would soon be his wife. As each day passed, he found himself growing more and more comfortable with being leg-shackled. Not to just anyone, but to his dour-faced Phoebe who wanted to keep things strictly professional between them.
He should totally agree with her position. He should keep his distance and treat her more like an employee than a spouse. But he'd be damned if he would.
"You ready?" he asked, stealing a bean from the bowl. She stared into the bowl as if she was counting the remaining beans. Chuckling, he typed in the address to the Pierce County website and clicked to the application for a marriage license.
Phoebe snapped another bean in half, then tossed it into the bowl. She took the towel draped over her shoulder and wiped her hands clean.
"We apply online," she said. "Then go into the office, show them our IDs and pay the fee. Three days later, we're married."
He nodded while he entered in their information. "What's your middle name?"
"Clarice."
He swiveled his head. "Clarice? As in 'Hello, Clarice'?"
She jabbed him with her elbow. "Don't ever call me that, do you hear me? I hate that name."
"I would, too."
Placing her hand on the countertop, she squinted in his direction. "And what's your middle name?"
He simply smiled and typed in his own name.
"Wentworth," she said.
He nodded.
"Ashley Wentworth Cooper."
"Technically, it's Ashley Wentworth Philip Hughes-Cooper." He shrugged and grinned. "But there's rarely enough spaces for me to enter my full name."
Phoebe lifted her hand to her mouth, mimicking someone holding a tea cup with their pinkie finger extended. "How very aristocratic."
He braced his legs apart as he focused on his typing. His fingers flew over the keyboard as he completed the application. "You were born in Indiana, right?"
"Yep." She leaned onto his arm to see the screen. "You were born in Pennsylvania? I thought I detected a slight Southern accent?"
He inclined his head. "You'd be right. I was born in Gladwyne, a suburb of Philadelphia, but I was raised mostly in Tennessee, just outside of Nashville."
"Was your dad also in the military?"
"He was a psychiatrist and professor at Penn." He smiled sadly. "When my parents died, my sisters and I were sent to Tennessee where my mother was from."
Ash could see the sympathy lingering in Phoebe's dark eyes. Whenever he talked about his parents with a woman--and he rarely did--he usually steered the conversation away at this point. But he'd learned a little bit about her history when they'd talked over the telephone before she left for Washington. He'd learned about her dream of being a nurse and her dedication to her sister. She'd even told him that she hadn't been raised by her own mother.
"My father was from a wealthy Virginian family. My grandfather was a federal judge, and my great-grandfather was a state senator who campaigned a few times to be governor." He submitted their application, then closed the laptop. "My mother, on the other hand, was from a dirt-poor family from Appalachia. They met when my dad was completing a fellowship at the clinic in my mom's town. My dad's parents weren't too happy about their marriage, so they disowned him."
"I take it Reggie was your mother's aunt?"
He nodded. "When my parents died, my dad was survived by two brothers, a sister, and both of his parents. None of them stepped forward to take me and my sisters after the car accident. It was Reggie who took us." He placed his elbow on the counter and leaned onto it. He plucked another bean from the bowl and popped it into his mouth. "That's why it's important I take care of her now. She didn't have to take us, but she did because we're family. I could easily find a good nursing home and stash her mean ass in there, but it would be wrong. She'll stay with me as long as she needs to, whether that's until she's recovered enough to go back home or..." He didn't finish the thought.
He stepped around Phoebe and walked to the stove. He lifted the top of the sauté pan, allowing the steam to float up to his face. He inhaled deeply before flashing her a smile. "I love smothered pork chops."
"Good," she said, walking to stand beside him. She pulled the lid from his hand and placed it down onto the pan. "Gotta keep the steam in."
"What's for dessert
?"
Her eyes were wide when she turned to him. Her full mouth curved into a smile, and he couldn't help responding in kind.
"You mean you're not making cookies?" she asked.
Ash groaned and shoved his hands into his jeans. "Can you believe we're out of cookie dough?"
"Really?" she asked before turning to open the fridge door. She bent down and surveyed each shelf, then closed the door and turned to him with a surprised look on her face. "You're right." An impish look caused her eyes to sparkle. "What are you going to do about it?"
He sighed and collapsed against the fridge. He raised his arm to shield his eyes in a dramatic pose. "I guess I could go buy some more."
"But?"
He dropped his arm and looked in her direction. "But that would mean getting in my car and driving to the store."
Phoebe laughed, then wiped her hands together. She walked up to him and placed those hands against his cheeks. They felt soft against his skin, and he found himself sighing with pleasure as he raised his own hands to cover hers.
"There's flour in the cabinet," she said.
"Is there?"
She nodded. "We also have eggs, sugar, and vanilla." She withdrew her hands and crossed her arms over her chest. "Are you following me?"
He most certainly had followed her. He'd followed the way her arms propped up her breasts. "I think so, but feel free to dumb it down for me."
She leaned past him and grabbed the canister of flour. She thrust it into his arms. "We have all the ingredients to make cookies from scratch."
"No, thank you," he said, dropping the canister onto the counter like it had burned him. He made to walk past her, but he felt her hand slide into the waistband of his jeans. The intimate gesture was one he'd expect from a proper wife, and here she wanted to keep things businesslike between them.
"Don't you dare go to the store."
He pivoted on his heel. "I thought you didn't care about my comings and goings."
She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms again. "I don't. Not really. It's just that you're spending all that money on premade cookie dough when we could be making our own." She picked up the flour. "Homemade tastes better, plus you're not cramming all that artificial junk into your body."
He cocked his head to the side. "Are you seriously making an argument that some cookies are junkier than others?"
She slid the canister on the counter, then grabbed onto his shoulder. "Out," she said, pushing him towards the doorway. When they stood in the opening, she pointed towards Reggie's room. "Go get Reggie. Dinner's about ready."
Ash lingered in the doorway in spite of Phoebe's order. He watched silently as she removed a mixing bowl from the cabinet and placed it on the counter. Phoebe muttered beneath her breath. She didn't seem to know he lingered in the doorway, and he could hear her complaints about his store-bought cookie dough. When he realized she was making him homemade cookies, he leaned against the doorframe and studied her back.
He imagined the many days she would spend in this kitchen, cursing his name and baking him cookies. His wife-to-be. The future Mrs. Ashley Wentworth Philip Hughes-Cooper. She hadn't even been here a week, and he was eagerly planning the life they would have together.
Ash waited for the usual panic to flare. When it didn't, he spun on his heel and darted into the hallway leading to Reggie's room.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Ash stood near the windowsill, staring across the courtroom where Phoebe stood beside Reggie. His aunt was doing a fantastic job ignoring Phoebe, choosing to study the paintings scattered around the courtroom. Phoebe didn't seem to notice; even from this distance, Ash knew she was prattling nonsense.
He now recognized that faraway look she got in her eyes whenever she became nervous or upset. They had only known each other for two and a half weeks, and he was already familiar with the cute little quirks in her personality. As if she felt his eyes on her, she blinked a few times, raised her head, and met his gaze.
A shy, gentle smile curved her lips before she turned her attention back to Reggie. His aunt didn't seem to appreciate that; she rolled her eyes and bit down on her bottom lip. Phoebe clearly had no clue that his aunt was perturbed.
"It's not too late, you know," whispered Bobby.
Ash raised his brows and looked at his friend.
Bobby shrugged and lifted his hands to adjust the tie to Ash's service uniform. Bobby purposely tightened it, causing Ash to cough and gag. As he stepped away to put distance between him and his friend, Ash grabbed the knot and loosened the tie.
By chance, his gaze once again traveled to the corner where Phoebe and Reggie stood. Both of them were staring back at him with rapt attention. Reggie seemed satisfied, while Phoebe wilted where she stood.
Stifling a groan, he shot Bobby a furious glance. Then Ash crossed the room to stand beside Phoebe. He lifted her right hand, and he brushed his lips across her palm. She gave him another one of her tiny smiles, then she pulled her hand free and buried it in the folds of her skirt.
Her dewy lips parted. Her long, dark lashes shielded her eyes. Pink tinted her cheeks, and he wasn't sure if it was from the heat or embarrassment.
She wore a silk, wrap-style sleeveless blouse with a silk-tulle skirt that fell to mid-calf. Although her hair wasn't piled into a bun on the top of her head, she'd braided it into a coronet with loose tendrils around her ears. In her left hand, she clutched a small bouquet of pink roses and white peonies.
"You're breathtaking." He thought she looked isolated, scared, and alone. Their two witnesses, Bobby and a very reluctant Reggie, were both connected to him. She had no one to stand with her and witness this moment.
He eliminated the small distance between them, stepping so close that his arm brushed the side of her breast. He reached out to caress the soft skin of her cheek, which drew her attention back to him.
"You don't have to do this. We can figure something else out." It surprised him how difficult those words felt coming from his lips. He was so startled that he abruptly pulled his hand away. "I don't want you to do anything you'll regret. It'll make the next five years hell for the both of us."
From the widening of her eyes, she'd clearly heard the sharpness in his tone. She placed her hand on her belly and shook her head. "I'm not going to back out now."
"Good."
She stiffened her jaw. "Good."
Ash shifted so that he faced the front of the courtroom, then he offered her his arm. She swallowed but wrapped her arm through his. As he started to lead her to the judge's bench, Bobby approached and grabbed the handles of Reggie's wheelchair.
The judge walked from his chambers, wearing his long black robe. Placing his glasses onto his nose, he held an open bible in his other hand. "Major Ashley Cooper and Miss Phoebe Marshall, I presume?"
As they turned to face each other, Ash noticed the bouquet quiver in her hands. He'd always imagined that if he got married, it would be a hellish day full of regrets and second thoughts. He feared he'd faint dead away at the feet of his bride, so overcome with panic that he'd lock his knees and cut the blood flow to his brain.
But that wasn't the case. Instead, he held out his hand and waited until she placed her own into his. He squeezed softly, reassuring her as the judge began the ceremony. He didn't even hesitate when it came time for him to repeat his vows.
"I, Ashley Cooper, take you, Phoebe Marshall, to be my lawfully wedded wife. To have and to hold from this day forward. For better or for worse. For richer or for poorer. In sickness and in health. And, to love and to cherish from this day forward until death do us part."
Feeling pleased with himself, he grinned, hoping it conveyed to her just how easy this was.
But when it came time for her to repeat the vows, she hesitated. Ash felt her tug at his hand, but he tightened his hold. If she walked away now, he would let her, but he didn't think he would ever recover from it.
She squeezed her eyes shut, then drew in a deep breath and expelled it through
her lips. When she opened her eyes, he saw that the hesitancy was gone, replaced by determination. With a subtle bob of her head, she stated the vows.
"I, Phoebe Marshall, take you, Ashley Cooper, to be my lawfully wedded husband. To have and to hold from this day forward. For better or for worse. For richer or for poorer. In sickness and in health. And, to love and to cherish from this day forward until dea--" Her breath caught for a moment "--death do us part."
"Do you have the rings?" asked the judge.
Ash looked towards Bobby, who stepped forward with his hand buried in his pocket. He pulled out his hand and revealed two rose-gold bands in the center of his palm. Upon seeing them, Reggie inhaled sharply, drawing Phoebe's attention.
Phoebe arched a brow and made to turn to Reggie, but Ash grabbed onto her hand. Phoebe jerked to a stop, as if suddenly remembering she was in the middle of their wedding ceremony. Humor lingered in her eyes when she turned her full attention back to him.
He smiled gratefully, taking a ring from Bobby. He slid his grandmother's ring onto her finger, then she took his grandfather's ring and slid it onto his hand.
The remaining moments of the ceremony became a blur. From the corner of his eye, Ash could see the judge's mouth moving, and he could hear words being spoken, but he could not tear his eyes away from Phoebe. It took the words, "you may now kiss your bride" for Ash to be pulled out of his trance.
He grinned broadly and stepped towards Phoebe. Placing a finger beneath her chin, he tilted her head. He bent forward to claim her lips, but at the last moment, she turned her head so his kiss landed on the corner her mouth. Then, she nearly hopped backwards to place distance between them.