by Lisa Wells
“Hi yourself, they were mine.”
“Mmmm. You have great lips.”
“Do you often take naps in the middle of the afternoon?” he asked teasingly.
“Only, when I’ve had really good midmorning sex.”
Stabbing jealousy seared his gut. Where did that emotion come from? Do jealousy and love travel in a rabid pack?
He resisted the urge to ask her how often she had great sex in the afternoon. “I’ve been thinking about something,” he said instead.
“You mean you didn’t sleep?” Her eyes opened wider and she stared at him.
“No, you snore.” He made a loud snoring noise to demonstrate for her what she sounded like.
“I do not. You’re a beast for making that up.” Lacey gave him an indignant look and then snorted air out her nose for emphasis.
“Oh, it’s true. It was horrible. Just shocking. The dogs were howling outside from the sound of things in here. I’m surprised you were able to sleep yourself.”
Lacey laughed and punched him.
“Ouch,” he said in mock pain rubbing his arm. “Where did a city girl like you learn to punch like that?”
“I’m not talking to you,” she said with a pout.
“In that case darling, I will apologize. I have a question, and I need you talking to answer it.”
She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “What?”
“Tell me what makes me your Mr. Wrong?”
Lacey shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. I guess the main thing is you’re country. I like city men.”
“City men?”
“Yeah. You know, the kind of men who drink fancy coffees. The kind who, when invited to a formal affair, will show up wearing an expensive suit and tie, not a clean pair of jeans and boots with their Sunday best hat. The kind that would never listen to country music in a convertible,” she ended in a shudder of disdain.
“So, it has nothing to do with my lack of finances? It has to do with your lack of taste in music?”
“My taste in music is just fine. And, it has nothing to do with money. I make more than enough money. I definitely don’t need a man for money. Although, I would be less than honest if I didn’t say money probably does play a role in my perfect man. But, it would be for other reasons.”
Covey took a moment to digest that response. “So, this country thing, you’re not the type who could ever be happy on a ranch, fifty miles from nowhere?”
“Oh, lord no. I would go crazy. Where would I get my daily latte? What would I do for entertainment? Why all the questions?” she asked with a yawn.
Covey considered her words. Other than the country bit, he could accommodate her on all her other desires for the perfect man. It was satisfying to know, he could be her Mr. Right, if he wanted to be. And, God help him, he wanted to be. “I have a proposition for you.”
She leaned up on an elbow and looked at him in confusion. “A sexual proposition?” She crawled on top of him and purred. With her hands on either side of his face, she pinned him in place.
“No. Well, I’m sure sex would be part of it. The bonus part of it.” He flipped her over on her back so that he was on top.
She lifted her head to look pointedly at his penis, which was pushing into her belly. “You’ve got my attention.” She reached out and fingered his balls.
“I would like to hire you for a month.”
Her fingers found a grip on one ball and tightened.
Those weren’t the words he meant to say. Where did they come from? He carefully removed her hand and rolled off of her.
She rose and sat frozen beside him. “Hire me? For a month?” she finally questioned.
“Yes.” He waved his hand in front of her face to see if she would blink. She did.
“Hire me how?” She undid the torn hose from its garter and rolled it off her leg. Tossing it on the floor, she looked at Covey.
Good question. What do I want to hire you for? “Well, this is the tricky part. I need to come clean on some things. I haven’t been exactly honest with you.” He was winging it. He never winged anything this important.
To his surprise, Lacey turned pale and jumped off the bed. What had he said?
“You’re married aren’t you? How could that freakin’ happen?” She paced to the window and then swung around to glare at him. “They’re supposed to screen everyone and conduct background checks to make sure everyone is single. God, I’ve slept with a married man. I’m going to burn in hell for sure.” She picked up a figurine from the dressing table and threw it at him.
He caught it. “What in damnation are you jabbering about? Of course, I’m not married. Why would you think that?”
“You’re not? Are you sure?” She walked back to the bed and collapsed on her back.
“No, I’m single.”
“Then, what is it you want to tell me?” She turned her head sideways to look at him.
“I’m not a country music singer for a living.” When Lacey opened her mouth to interrupt him, he quickly spit out the rest of the sentence afraid she would go on another tirade. “Let me finish. I do sing. I didn’t lie about that. But, singing’s not my only source of income.”
Lacey surprised him by shrugging her shoulders in apparent indifference to that bit of information. “Well, I would hope not. I can’t imagine you paying your bills on the income you’d make singing in tiny little bars.”
Covey grinned and leaned forward to kiss her on her slightly swollen lips. “You’re a snob Lacey Valentine.”
“Guilty. I know.”
“I’m wealthy,” Covey blurted out. Again, not what he meant to say.
Lacey laughed and then sobered up when she realized he was serious. “How wealthy?”
“Wealthy enough.”
She picked up a pillow and hugged it. “Why the poverty act?”
Covey leaned against the headboard. “I didn’t want a lot of publicity from the show. I planned on going on a wife hunt afterward.”
Lacey turned a murderous look at him.
He hurriedly continued in an effort to smooth the storm that was brewing inside of her. “I wasn’t interested in a fling; so, I tried my best not to get picked.”
“I’m a fling? You’re using me to get your jollies before you settle down? How can you have sex with someone when you’re in love with someone else?” Lacey shouted. “Is this what every man does?”
The storm gates had opened. “Calm down. You’ve got it wrong. I’m not in love with anyone,” he lied.
“Wrong,” she shouted. “Did I, or didn’t I, just hear you say I’m a fling and you’re getting married?” She tossed the pillow on her lap at him.
“Yes. That’s what I said. But, you interpreted it wrong.” Covey handed her the pillow back and she slapped his hand away.
“Then, by all means, please interpret that cryptic message for me.” Her eyes narrowed to mere slits. “Have you ever walked in on someone you love having sex with someone else?”
No. He hadn’t. “My grandmother saw a tall blonde in a vision. The blonde was my wife.” He wanted to kill the man who broke her heart. What an asshole.
She rolled her eyes in disgust. “You don’t believe in psychics do you?”
Covey felt a sadness wash over him. Yes, he did. “My grandmother’s dying. It would make her happy to see me settled down before she dies. She has an old-fashion belief that a man needs a woman to be happy.”
“So, you’re going to get married to please your grandmother?”
He didn’t answer right away. He’d been willing to do that. But, could he say that was his true motivation at this point? He weighed his words carefully. “Well, this is where it becomes even more complicated. I told my grandmother I’d met the woman in her vision. She’s expecting a marriage.”
“You think your grandmother saw me in a vision?” Shock was plastered across her face.
Covey regretted telling her. Now, she would turn him down for sure. You either believed or yo
u didn’t in psychics. Very few, left their options open on the possibility. If he wasn’t already her Mr. Wrong in cement shoes, he would be now that he’d told her there were psychics in his family. “Well, she thinks she saw someone who was blonde and tall. You know what, let’s just forget we’ve had this conversation. I’ll explain to Grandmother that I met the wrong woman. There’s lots of tall blondes in Texas.”
Lacey groaned. “I believe in psychics, Covey?”
Covey’s mouth dropped open. So much, for Mr. Wrong in cement shoes. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” he responded, while trying to hold back the laughter threatening to erupt.
“Don’t laugh. I have a friend, Maddison, whose mom is a medium. Her mom’s name is MarVeena. MarVeena can be translated into Goddess of the night. Isn’t that the absolute best name? Anyway, it’s her given birth-name. Swear. She designs shoes in a unique boutique in Kansas City. You can look it up. It’s the name she was given before speaking to the dead was an acceptable career. Don’t you get it? It’s like her destiny, to speak to the dead,” she babbled the incredible saga without taking a breath.
“Sure.” Covey’s face was carefully neutral; he hadn’t really followed the whole MarVeena story. She’d lost him with the bit about speaking to the dead being fashionable. When had speaking to the dead become an acceptable career?
“Come on. Get excited. I have met some really cool people, through séances she guided.”
This was the most animated he’d seen Lacey. Gone was the seductress. In her place, an energetic bundle of fun. “People?” he questioned.
“You know. Those, who are on the other side. Someday, if you remind me, I’ll tell you all about Jasper. He’s a spirit. He’s a hoot.”
“Jasper? You have relationships with dead people?” This was going to be a problem. Lacey was the nut case. Lacey was crazy. Not his grandmother. She only had visions. As far as he knew, she never actually spoke to spirits. He didn’t want to be in love with someone who went around building friendships with people who weren’t there. His grandmother was bizarre enough for the whole family.
“No, I don’t have relationships with them.”
Whew. Relief started to relax his doubts. A little.
“I just have conversations with them,” Lacey explained.
On the other hand, her view on the spirit world would make his grandmother happy. And, the sex between them was amazing. He could get her to fall in love, given enough time. Actually, now that he gave it some thought, what could be more perfect? His grandmother would not only be at peace to see him settled down, she’d have a friend to talk to about her visions. “Lacey, would you like to pretend we’re getting married?” Pretend. Damn, he’d meant to say, will you marry me.
She didn’t blink. She didn’t pause to think. “No.”
“Why the hell not?” God, did she know what it took out of him to ask?
She snorted. “Don’t curse at me and wipe that snarl off your face. It makes you look dangerous.”
Covey wiped the snarl off of his face.
“The answer’s no, because it would be a dishonest arrangement.”
He was willing to beg. “It would be dishonest for a good reason.” Should he admit he was in love with her? When did a man make that type of verbal commitment? Too soon, and you’d scare her away. Too late, and she might find another.
Lacey shook her head no. “You’re my Mr. Wrong. We could never be happy. It wouldn’t work. Besides, you were going to fall in love. Why are you just offering me a pretend engagement instead of love and marriage?”
So, that was it. She felt like she was getting cheated. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Which was very true. He liked Lacey. He had no desire to cause her any pain. “Would you have said yes to getting married?”
She shrugged.
Her indifference pissed him off. “Do you want to get married?” he asked.
“That’s not a proposal,” she said accusingly.
Women. There was no pleasing them. And yes, it had been a damn proposal. “I own suits; I wouldn’t embarrass you at a formal event. You and I have great sex. It wouldn’t be so bad. And, if you want, we can have an arrangement.”
Her eyes narrowed to slits of danger. “Arrangement?”
He realized his error too late. “Never mind, that was a bad idea. I have a home in the country and in the city. I love country music, but that shouldn’t be what keeps you from saying yes.”
Her eyes popped open. “You own two homes? Wow.”
Was that approval he saw on her face. “Say yes.” Lord help him, but he really did want her to say yes. He was in over his head.
Lacey gave him a fond look, and he felt punched in the gut. She was giving him the kind of look you give a man you just want to be friends with.
“Covey, you’re different. But, I see a real sweet side underneath the garbage coming out of your mouth. That’s why I’m willing to consider this proposal.”
“You are?” Joy jumped around inside of him. If she would just wipe that idiotic friendship look off her face. They were lovers; they were not friends. He didn’t want to be her friend.
“Yes, but not exactly as you outlined.”
That took the air of him. Here comes the let’s just be friends’ line. Never. Not even once, had he been given the let’s just be friends speech. He braced himself and ran a quick interference. “I promised you a nostrings-attached weekend. We can just stick to that.”
“So, now you’re pulling out of your proposal?”
“No, I didn’t say that. I just want you to know there’s no pressure.”
“You mean you can take me or leave me. No big whoop either way?”
“Dammit, you’re blowing this out of proportion.”
“Do you or don’t you want to know my conditions?”
“Yes.”
“It’s simple. A long-term marriage is out. We’re not in love. If I marry you, I’m not marrying you forever.”
That’s what she thought. Once he got her to say I do, he wasn’t going to let her say, I don’t. “I’m listening. Why not forever?”
“I’m only willing to do this because you’re my Mr. Wrong. I know I can help you out without worrying about falling in love with you and getting hurt.”
“You do?” God, she was brutal to his ego.
“Yes. I do. This is what I propose. We’ll get married, and stay married, until your grandmother dies. Then, we’ll get an annulment.”
Worse than friends. Friends had friendly sex. “An annulment? Doesn’t that require we don’t consummate the marriage?”
“Yes. And that bites. But, if you’re willing to make this sacrifice for your grandmother, then you need to do it in a way that doesn’t ruin the rest of your life or mine.”
Hell, she had a good point. How could he argue with common sense? Unless he was ready to declare his love, he was going to have to play along. “And, what do you get out of this situation? Other than an annulment?” This isn’t what he wanted. Not by a long shot.
“I don’t know; but it feels like the right thing to do. Call it a woman’s intuition; but I feel pressed to help you out. Maybe, it’s nothing more than you gave me back my orgasm; and I want to repay the deed. Or maybe, it’s because of something Jasper told me at last month’s séance.”
“Jasper? Séance?” Annulment was still taking up space in his brain. Other words weren’t filtering correctly.
“I told you about him. Weren’t you listening?”
“Oh, I forgot about Jasper. What else is in it for you?”
She shrugged her shoulders as if this was nothing more than a decision to buy green bananas on the faith you’d be around to see them ripen. “It will get me out of town for a while. My ex got married. I really don’t want to be around to run into the happy couple.”
He narrowed his eyes. That wasn’t a good enough reason. “Cut the crap. I’m not buying it. A vacation would solve your problem.” Why did the man have to be the first to say I love y
ou?
Lacey threw her hands in the air. “I offered to help, that’s all.”
He stared into her eyes, searching for signs of a lie. She didn’t blink. “I’m not use to someone doing something unless there’s something in it for them.”
Lacey grabbed her shoes. “That’s what I’m offering. Are you in or are you out?” She stood at the door and waited for an answer.
Covey ran his hands threw his hair. This was a bizarre proposal of marriage. “Calm down. I’m in. Thank you.” In? He was in way over his head. That’s what he was in.
“You’re welcome.” She did a small curtsey and left the room.
Chapter 23
Walking to her room, Lacey replayed their conversation. Her gut told her it was a mistake. Her gut was usually right. But, why was it telling her it was a mistake? Where was the mistake in the plan?
Why did I say I’d do it? I’m such a sucker for a sob story.
She knew why. Jasper told her last month, she’d be married by fall. It was fall.
Covey’s heart was in the right place. How many men would be willing to go to such lengths to make their grandmother happy? Was her heart in the right place? Was she really doing this to leave town for a while and make a dying woman happy? Why did she come up with a solution that denied her sex with a man who made her toes curl backwards?
I’m my own worse enemy.
She had no one to explain her actions to. Her parents were away. They wouldn’t be any the wiser to her good deed. On the one hand, she really couldn’t see any flaws.
On a permanent basis, Covey and her were wrong for each other. He was her Mr. Wrong, nothing had changed there.
Aren’t we?
Yes, of course we are.
But, on a short-term basis, this plan could work. When they got their annulment, they could go back to having friendly sex until one of them found a life partner.
With a sigh, she reached for a pen and paper off the nightstand. It was time for her to make a list of all the reasons he was wrong for her.
She needed to make sure she wasn’t setting herself up for heartache. She survived one failed relationship and the ensuing heartache. She didn’t think she was up for another heartbreak relationship.