Once Upon a Marriage

by Sara Daniel

  She’d shown up to be alone with him in his favorite part of the grounds. The garden held special significance, and he wanted to show her how the literal place to “stop and smell the roses” had changed him. He plucked a daisy and held it up for her.

  The determination in her eyes softened, but she still held out her dreaded packet of papers and a pen. “We don’t need to pretend this is an even trade.”

  Definitely not. He’d known she’d agreed to meet with him for one reason only, but he intended to convince her that divorce didn’t have to be their only topic of conversation. It didn’t have to be discussed at all.

  After tucking the flower behind her ear, he threaded the stem through her hair, touching her for as long as he dared.

  She smiled. “Thank you for the flower, but I’m not going to make an equally sweet gesture and turn this packet into a paper hat for you. You might as well sign it and be done.” She pressed the papers against his chest.

  Having no choice but to take them, he rolled the packet into a tube and shoved it and the pen into his rear pocket. “We have plenty of time to read through it later. Walk with me for a bit.”

  For a moment, he thought she would argue. Then she sighed and took in their surroundings. “Your garden is beautiful. Is this the first year you’ve grown something here?”

  “Second,” he corrected. “Last year the plot was about half the size. We had so many guests come out to enjoy it. Guests who received leg prosthetics for the first time were much more motivated to take steps when they had something beautiful to walk toward and explore. So we expanded, and we now have over a mile of handicapped-accessible walkways and over two hundred varieties of plants, most of them native to the St. Louis area.”

  “That’s amazing.” She skimmed her fingers over the petals of a petunia. “So, can you name all the plants and flowers?”

  “I wish. When my landscaper walks me through here, I swear I’m going to remember everything she tells me, but the words go in one ear and out the other. Every so often a guest comes through who knows their plants really well. Their passion turns into an impromptu botany lesson for the other guests and the staff. Everyone forgets about disabilities and prosthetics and who’s supposed to be teaching whom. That’s when I feel like I’ve really accomplished something with the Inn.”

  “You should.” Armina ran her fingers over the tiny lavender flowers on a bush, then inhaled. “I love lilacs. You may never convince me to go back inside.”

  He smiled. The garden called to her soul just as it did to his. Refusing to give her a reason to react defensively and push him away, he kept the connection to himself. She already aspired to push him away permanently. He didn’t need to give her extra ammunition. “If you can’t get enough of the plants and fresh air, you might want to check out the nature preserve about a half mile down the road.”

  “I remember it.”

  Of course. Just because he’d been unaware of life outside the Inn didn’t mean she’d been oblivious, too. “They recently made improvements to the trails. If you like to jog, from here around the preserve loop and back is exactly 5K.”

  She blinked. “You jog?”

  “In the early mornings, and I swim at night before bed. I like to start and end the day with physical exertion.” And for the past two years, sex hadn’t been an option. “It clears my mind and centers me.”

  She stared at him as though she didn’t know him, which was true. He’d worked hard to change the parts of him that had driven her away because he hadn’t liked what he’d seen in the mirror either. The change had made a world of difference to him. Whether it was enough for her remained to be seen.

  They’d wandered far enough along the winding trail that the tall ferns obscured their view of the Inn, providing them with their own secluded section of paradise. Ian sat on a stone bench and tugged Armina’s hand, intending for her to sit next to him. Instead, when she stepped toward him, she stood between his spread legs.

  His cock jumped to attention, and he moved his palms to her waist, sliding his fingertips under her shirt, searching for the warmth of her skin.

  “Ian.” The warning in her tone didn’t match the longing in her eyes.

  “What do you want?” He glided his thumbs over her navel.

  “To kiss you.”

  His heart soared at the unexpected admission, but he resisted the urge to jump to his feet and claim her mouth. “So do it.”

  She braced her hands on his shoulders and leaned toward him, lightly brushing her lips over his. Her stance created a gap between her shirt and her chest, give him plenty of opportunity to explore her tantalizing flesh. He grazed his palms over her stomach and the lace of her bra cup. Her nipples turned taut beneath his touch.

  Moaning against his mouth, she pressed her tongue along the seam of his lips.

  He opened for her, groaning with delight and need as her tongue tangled with his. His cock pulsed, reminding him how long he’d gone without her.

  Thankfully, she still favored front-clasp bras, and he flicked the garment open, sliding his palms over her naked flesh. The buds of her nipples tightened further, making him desperate to draw one into his mouth and suck until she cried out. Just thinking about it brought him a breath away from coming in his shorts.

  “Ian.” She pulled back from his mouth, breathing hard.

  “I know.” He tugged her closer, sliding one of his legs between hers, so her thigh nudged his proud and straining cock. Lifting her shirt, he caressed the underside of her breast with his lips.

  “Oh.” The word exhaled from her lips with a half gasp. “Oh Ian, you make this so hard for me.”

  “Hard for you to do what?” Nothing could be harder than his physical state. He licked the bottom slope of her breast up to her nipple. “All you have to do is let me pleasure you.” Drawing the bud gently into his mouth, he savored her sweetness and the pounding of her heart against his ear.

  She pushed against his head and stumbled backward. “No, I can’t.”

  He stared at her, aching to touch her and take her into his mouth, just damn aching for her, so badly he could hardly think. “Why not?”

  “Because I can’t have a relationship right now.”

  “Are you seeing someone else?” Why hadn’t he thought of it before? The scenario made perfect sense of why she would be in such a hurry to get the papers signed. Armina would never consider cheating as an option.

  “No, but I’m getting ready to have a baby.”

  “Excuse me?” The imprint of her naked stomach and breasts still burned his hands. If she was pregnant, she definitely wasn’t far along.

  “I mean that I’m planning and getting ready, so I can get pregnant. I’m not yet.”

  He tried to connect the dots in his mind but couldn’t, so he tried thinking aloud. “If you’re stopping me before we get to sex, and you don’t have another guy in the wings….”

  “I’m working with a fertility clinic and a sperm bank.” She reached under her shirt and hooked her bra.

  He frowned. They’d rushed into marriage and hadn’t talked about kids beforehand, but afterward he’d explained why he didn’t want any. The Inn made more than enough demands on his time, but he’d never attempted to use his business as an excuse. How could he consider becoming a father with the chance he’d be anything like his old man?

  Armina’s gaze assured him she remembered his stance all too well. “You can see why it’s so important I finalize our divorce before I get pregnant to avoid complications and questions. Sign the papers for your sake, so I don’t try to come after you to take responsibility or claim any of your assets for my baby.”

  If she thought she’d scare him into agreeing to a divorce, she’d taken the wrong approach. Surprised him, yes. Made him want her more, definitely. “If you had any thoughts of trapping me, you wouldn’t be telling me this. You’d be straddling my lap, fucking me, telling me we don’t need a condom because you have birth control covered. And I’d believe y
ou because I’d give anything to be inside you right now.”

  “Ian,” she whispered, her brown eyes glazed with desire.

  He stood and closed the distance between them, taking her in his arms. “I don’t pretend to have worked through all my issues with dear old Dad or that I’m ready for a kid of my own, but I’ve stopped working myself to death to prove that I’m not a no-good deadbeat like him.”

  “I’m glad.” She framed his face with her hands. “I’m proud of you for bringing yourself to a better emotional place. But you did it yourself. I didn’t help you get there.”

  In his opinion, she’d laid the groundwork, but he wouldn’t let her distract him from the point he’d been building up to. “Why the hell are you giving up sex to go to a sperm bank and take the seed of some guy you’ve never met and might not even like if you did meet him? What are you going to tell your kid when they ask—that you picked their dad out of a catalog?”

  She flinched and dropped her hands. “I don’t have other options. I have endometriosis, and I’m going to need a hysterectomy in the next year, two years at most, maybe a few months from now. My secretary had the same disorder, and she ended up needing an emergency hysterectomy before she had a chance to get pregnant. I see how much regret she carries around because she thought she had time and put off having kids. I’m terrified the same thing will happen to me.”

  Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears while her body trembled from her impassioned speech and maybe, he hoped, still from their lust-filled encounter moments before.

  “What if it was with me?” he asked, not thinking, just speaking on impulse.

  “What?”

  “What if you didn’t go to a sperm bank and had sex with me instead? Would that be so bad? Has it been so long that you don’t remember how good sex is and what you’ll be giving up?” If he could remind her, maybe she’d give up the baby idea to stay with him.

  She blinked. “Do you remember our sex life—what there was of it?”

  “Our wedding night in Vegas….” He began.

  “Was amazing,” she agreed. “I’m not saying we didn’t have good moments, but real life seemed to intrude every time we tried to hook up. Either we didn’t have sex because you were flat-out too busy to come to bed, or when we did have sex, you rushed to the finish so you could take a call or run out to accommodate a guest.”

  As much as he wanted to deny her criticism, he couldn’t. He’d let the Inn take priority in the bedroom. The only wonder about her leaving him was that she hadn’t walked away sooner. “I was an idiot and a complete ass to let my work come before our marriage. Believe me, I’ve had two long years to think about it.”

  She stepped away from his embrace. “If I’m supposed to be impressed you’re man enough to admit it, sorry, but I’m not. If you’d cared about fixing our relationship, you would have made some sort of effort to seek me out.”

  “I should have. You’re right. I needed to make changes to my life, and those changes didn’t happen overnight. All the time I kept hoping you would return and see my transformation and give me another chance. By the time I adjusted my thinking to consider coming after you, you’d served me with divorce papers.”

  “Speaking of which—”

  No. He couldn’t believe he’d brought up the topic he most wanted her to forget. Panic slithered up his spine at how close he was to losing her. He needed to truly connect with her to have a chance. “Sleep with me, Armina, one more time. I know you want me, and you can feel how much I want you too.”

  “Simply wanting each other isn’t enough to keep us together.”

  “If you’re not completely satisfied,” he barreled on, his heart breaking. He’d have to keep his word, even if it killed him. “I’ll sign the papers, no questions asked.”

  She opened her mouth. Before she could speak, he kissed her, threading his fingers through her hair and dislodging the daisy behind her ear. He had to satisfy her in a way he never had before. Beyond the lustful urges, he had to prove he was her other half. He made her whole, just as she completed him.

  Physically demonstrating their connection was his only option and his only hope.

  Chapter Five

  Armina closed her eyes and lost herself in Ian’s kiss. The lazy seduction tantalized her with every taste and every stroke. His hands crept up her shirt again, and she rejoiced in her baggy clothes as he cupped her shoulders, sliding her bra straps down her arms and caressing the swell of her breasts near her aching nipples but not rubbing over them. She arched into his touch, but he skimmed his fingers around the outer curve.

  “Ian, are you out here? We have a situation.” A woman’s frantic voice cut through Armina’s haze of lust.

  He wrenched his mouth from hers and yanked his hands out of her shirt. Instead of pushing her away, he hugged her against his chest as the woman dashed around the curve in the path and into view.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt,” Cat said, glancing between them.

  She felt like a teenager sneaking her first forbidden touch, instead of half of a married couple. Regardless of how she labeled herself, she should have had the sense to go somewhere private. She pulled away from Ian and fixed her clothing as discreetly as possible.

  “One of the surgeons, Frank, has become belligerent,” Cat said. “He’s using his new prosthetic to grab everything he can. Another guest claims Frank stole his wallet, and they’re about to come to blows.”

  “I have to….” Ian whispered, remorse in his voice.

  “I know.” With no time to sort through the jumble of regrets and surging chemistry, Armina grasped his hand, and they ran down the path together. “Frank loves a good prank, but stealing someone’s wallet isn’t like him at all.”

  “We’ll get it straightened out.”

  His confidence reassured her as they dashed into the dining room. Everyone seemed to be shouting at once. Ian squeezed her hand and then released it, heading toward the loudest and most irate of the guests. She scanned the room and located Frank, who’d figured out the individual finger movements of his new prosthetic without the help of a therapist and proudly demonstrated every obscene gesture he could make.

  “Frank.” Standing in front of him, she covered his middle finger, lowering it to join the other fingers against his fist. “What are you doing?”

  “This hand is amazing. I was walking around the room, picking up little things likes spoons and marbles from the floor.”

  “I thought they were mice, so he was proving to me that they weren’t,” Lenny explained.

  “Then that dude over there”—Frank gestured toward the guy giving Ian an earful—“started chomping on a pork chop in front of Ned’s face.”

  “Not just eating, but savoring it and then showing Ned the chewed up food,” Lenny added. “Your uncle was almost in tears.”

  Armina glanced at Uncle Ned, who was milling around a food service cart. He picked up a forgotten piece of blueberry pie and began devouring it sans silverware. Rather than appearing distraught, he seemed to be making rather piglike grunting noises as he ate.

  “So I came up behind the guy,” Frank continued. “I thought about smacking him with my hand and knocking him unconscious, but I didn’t want to damage my new prosthetic. The jerk sure isn’t worth that hassle.”

  In other words, she ought to be thankful his priorities had led him away from physical violence. She ought to be even more thankful the interruption had kept her from sinking deeper into her attraction to Ian. But instead, she felt bereft and cold without his hands gliding over her skin.

  “That’s when I noticed his wallet poking out of his pocket,” Frank said. “So I took it and started passing his cash and credit cards around to the different tables. When I had about half the stuff pulled out, he finally noticed. He thinks it’s funny when he’s purposely mean to other people, but he sure has trouble taking a prank when it comes back to bite him in the ass.”

  In other words, both men had reverted to junior-high
behavior. As if to prove her point, Frank flipped his arm up, directing another rude gesture at the guest whom Ian had finally managed to calm to a normal speaking volume.

  Armina took Frank’s arms, holding them by his sides. “I’m glad your hand is working so well that you can defend your friends and communicate with your enemies, but do you really think you solved anything?”

  He shrugged. “What can I do? My hand twitched, and his wallet was right there. I couldn’t stop myself. And it’s not like I kept anything I took out of it.”

  “It’s still your hand, and you’re in control of it. I’m going to have your physical-therapy girl—Beth,” she corrected herself, “work with you tomorrow on thinking through your movements and actions.”

  “I thought the point was to get so good they became involuntary, and I wouldn’t have to think.”

  “Nothing good came out of this incident.” Unless she counted the fact that it had stopped her from having sex in a public garden. But the way her body ached, stopping did not equal good.

  She sighed and looked across the room to where the pork-chop chewer meticulously sorted the cards for his wallet and counted his cash, seeming less than pleased to admit it was all accounted for.

  Ian caught her eye and winked, reminding her they had straightened out the argument, as he’d promised. If only straightening out all the issues between them were as easy.

  Without a doubt, she had to take him up on his offer. She wanted to feel his skin against hers one more time, to come alive the way she only did when he kissed her. Having a baby didn’t just mean giving up sex to cuddle with a petri dish. She would be forgoing relationships for the foreseeable future to make her baby her first priority.

  ***

  Across the room Armina mouthed, “Tomorrow night.”

  Ian’s body heated to the point of spontaneous combustion. How he could wait twenty-four hours to take in his wife in his arms he had no idea.