by Bru Baker
“I won’t change my mind. You don’t need to worry about that. And you won’t need me forever anyway. Just until you can get permanent alien status or whatever it is you need to do, right?”
Mateus made a frustrated sound. “I can’t ask that of you. It’s so much. It can take years for all that paperwork to go through. My brother has been married for three, and he’s still not a naturalized citizen.”
Crawford shrugged. “So?” He shook his head when Mateus sighed. “No, listen. I don’t—I’m not being a drama queen when I say marriage is off the table for me, okay? It’s not like we’d actually be tied together. Just legally. We won’t live in the same place. We probably wouldn’t even have to see each other again if we didn’t want to, once we’re officially in the States as a married couple. I’ll be in LA, and you’ll be in the boonies in Washington doing what you do. And if you meet someone and want to get married for real—well, we’ll get a quick divorce. I’m not asking you for anything here, Mateus. I promise.”
It was a serious moment, but Crawford had to fight not to snicker. Here he was, asking someone to marry him again and making promises. Putting himself smack-dab in a position he’d sworn to himself three years ago he’d never be in again. It felt right, though. Spontaneous and stupid, but right. There was just something about Mateus that was—he didn’t even have words for it. Good. Innocent. Carefree. Things Crawford wished he was but knew he couldn’t be. And he didn’t want Mateus’s spirit to be crushed by getting arrested and deported. The man was just trying to help his family, for Christ’s sake. He was a botanist. Not some horrible threat to the country. What would deporting him accomplish?
Mateus rubbed a palm across his face. He looked a lot more exhausted than he had just an hour ago. Older too. Some of the light had already gone out of his eyes, and Crawford didn’t want to be responsible for extinguishing the rest.
“If you really hate the idea, we’ll go back.” He pulled out his phone. “My brother’s firm has a lot of connections. We’ll find you someone who can help.”
Mateus reached over and put his hand over Crawford’s before Crawford could call. “I don’t hate the idea.” He shot Crawford a wry grin. “In fact, I think I would not find being married to you to be a hardship at all. But I’m getting all the benefit. You—why would you do this for a stranger?”
He wouldn’t, not for just any stranger. But Mateus wasn’t just anyone, and he didn’t feel like a stranger. Crawford had lost most of his friends after his divorce, and he had a hard time opening up and trusting new people. But it had felt natural to tell Mateus his whole life story and offer to drive him to Canada when their flight was canceled. And then to offer to marry him when the need arose. Crawford couldn’t find the words to reassure Mateus, because there weren’t any words. It was completely and utterly crazy.
“It just felt like the right thing to do,” Crawford blurted. He flushed. It made him sound like some sort of Dudley Do-Right, and he wasn’t. He recycled, he gave to charity. He held doors open for the elderly and always returned his library books on time and in good condition. But he wasn’t the kind of guy who would bend over backward to help a stranger. He’d do anything for his family, but Mateus wasn’t family. He couldn’t explain why he felt like he was.
Mateus studied him for a long moment and then nodded. “If we do this, you have to be able to call an end to it whenever you want. No guilt about me getting deported.”
“Same. For you, I mean. You should be able to end it if you want to.”
Mateus’s chin came up, and some of the fire returned to his eyes. “I know you don’t believe in marriage, but I do. So while we’re married, I’ll be faithful to our marriage. I don’t expect the same of you, but I wouldn’t feel right being married to you and being with someone else.”
Crawford was flabbergasted. So Mateus was offering up a vow of chastity? “I don’t expect that, but I can’t tell you what to do. We’ll be married on paper only. Your life is yours.”
And mine is mine, he thought. He was definitely not signing up for a few years of abstinence. And he wasn’t going to expect any kind of intimacy from Mateus either. It would feel too much like pressing an advantage. Crawford didn’t like any imbalances of power in his relationships, not even the ones that were purely physical. “I’m not going to lie, I’m attracted to you,” he said bluntly. “But I won’t consummate our marriage. That would feel—” He groped for a word, trying to defend himself without offending Mateus. “—wrong, somehow. Like I was trading marriage for sexual favors or something. So no sex.”
Was it his imagination, or did Mateus look disappointed at that? It was a shame, because he hadn’t been lying about being attracted to Mateus. He was gorgeous, funny, and smart. But he was off-limits now.
“I respect that,” Mateus said solemnly.
Crawford almost wished he’d put up a fight on that front. It wouldn’t have taken too much convincing that it was a bad idea. But it was a good condition. And unlike Mateus, he wasn’t promising to be faithful. It wasn’t like Crawford was interested in long-term relationships these days anyway. He was purely into hookups and casual flings. Mateus would be neither, and the two of them being married would make things messy and complicated.
“So are we agreed? We’ll get married, file the paperwork, and you can probably fly home tomorrow.” Crawford looked at the clock on the dash. “I don’t think there’s any way to get all that done before your flight today. But you can stay at the hotel. It’s not anywhere near capacity, so it won’t be a problem to arrange for a room for tonight.”
Mateus bit his lip, still looking hesitant, but he nodded. “So we do it today?”
Crawford scrolled through his phone, searching for a vital statistics office as the border officer had suggested. “We do it today.”
“YOU should have let me pay for the rings,” Mateus said, holding the door to the hotel lobby open for Crawford.
Crawford wouldn’t have thought of that piece at all, except there had been a tiny jewelry store next to the marriage commissioner’s office. There had been a set of beautiful yet simple white gold rings in the window, and on a whim Crawford had gone in and purchased them. They were nowhere near as ostentatious as the platinum and diamond rings he and Davis had exchanged, but somehow they seemed to suit him and Mateus. Crawford had forgotten what it felt like to have the weight of a ring on his finger. He’d have been lying if he said he didn’t like it.
He ran his thumb over the band, a smile playing over his lips. The ceremony had taken all of five minutes, and he and Mateus had been giggling by the time they’d left the courthouse. They probably looked like any other giddy newlyweds, though their hysteria had been more of a shared “what the hell have we done” rather than excitement.
“The rings were my treat.” He’d slipped in to get them while Mateus had been using the restroom at the deli next door to the commissioner’s office. It had felt ridiculous and more than a little romantic, which was absurd. But marriage obviously meant something to Mateus, and Crawford had wanted to honor that at least a little bit.
“I’ll take you to dinner tonight, then,” Mateus said with a sharp look that made Crawford grin. They’d been married less than an hour and Mateus was already starting to henpeck. He bit back the comment, knowing it wouldn’t go over well. He did have some sense of self-preservation, illegal impromptu marriage notwithstanding.
“I look forward to it,” Crawford said with a bow, drawing a smile out of Mateus.
“You don’t have to charm me anymore, Mr. Hargrave. I already married you,” Mateus muttered.
Crawford laughed, delighted to see that some of Mateus’s spunk had come back. “I really am looking forward to it, though. I’m starving.”
“We can walk around and find someplace after we check in,” Mateus suggested. “Unless you already have something in mind? Did you have plans already?”
He probably did, but Crawford didn’t care. He was never the one who made his own eatin
g arrangements when he was working. Whoever planned the trip usually did that, and the first night was almost always spent dining with the management staff. They’d have to take a rain check this time, though. He couldn’t give Mateus a real honeymoon, but he’d at least give him a meal with his undivided attention before Mateus flew out of his life and back to Washington the next day.
The immigration office had been about to close for the day, so they’d made an appointment to see someone first thing the next morning. He had at most dinner and then breakfast tomorrow to spend in Mateus’s company, and Crawford wasn’t going to waste any of that time.
The hotel lobby was spotless, and as Mateus craned his neck, taking in all the sights, Crawford couldn’t help but be a little bit proud. He’d had nothing to do with the design of the hotel or its impeccable upkeep, but it all fell under the umbrella of Chatham-Thompson, and he liked that Mateus seemed impressed.
If the rooms were as well-kept as the lobby, his job was going to be a lot easier than anticipated. He’d half expected to see the hotel had fallen into disrepair, as was often the case at properties that had lagging revenue. If he just had to tweak some service protocols and amenities, he might actually be out of here in less than the two weeks he’d allotted, which was a good thing. It meant less time with Davis and more time at home with Adam and Brandon before they had to leave for Japan.
God. What was Adam going to say about all this? Could he even tell him? Were lawyers bound by statutes to turn people in if they knew about illegal transactions?
No, they couldn’t be. In fact, wasn’t most of their business built on the fact that they didn’t have to turn their clients in? Maybe he’d make Adam take him on as a client, and then they’d have attorney-client privilege. Crawford was bursting to tell him about Mateus and their adventure at the border. Adam was always the fun, spontaneous brother—it would be nice to be the one telling the shocking story for once.
A well-groomed woman in the tidy Chatham-Thompson uniform all front desk employees wore flashed him a welcoming smile when he and Mateus walked up. “Mr. Hargrave! We expected you a few hours ago, sir. We have your room ready for you.”
Her gaze flicked to Mateus and down to his luggage before coming back to Crawford. “We didn’t realize you’d have a guest with you, Mr. Hargrave.”
“It was a bit of a last-minute decision,” Crawford said, and Mateus choked on a laugh next to him.
“Very last-minute,” Mateus said, and the woman practically melted at the grin he sent her.
Crawford handed over his passport, and Mateus followed suit. Even though they knew who he was, it was still hotel protocol, and he wanted to save her the hassle of having to ask him for it.
“It’s no problem,” she said, her dimples showing when she smiled again. “We have you in one of our one-bedroom suites. Does that suit, or shall I change your reservation to a two-bedroom?”
Before he could answer, the woman reached out to take Mateus’s passport, and her eyes widened when she saw his ring. She glanced over at Crawford’s and gasped audibly. “Oh, congratulations! Mr. Hargrave, I had no idea you were bringing your husband! You should have told me, we could have had a suite reserved to give you extra room.”
Crawford cringed. “We don’t—”
“He hadn’t planned on bringing me. It was a last-minute thing,” Mateus put in. “It’s new. The marriage.”
She lit up. “Are you here on your honeymoon?”
Crawford supposed they were, technically speaking. He looked over at Mateus with a wry grin. “Yes.”
Her fingers flew over her keyboard. “The penthouse suite is open. I can’t believe you’re spending your honeymoon here, working!” Her hand flew up to her mouth. “I’m so sorry, sir. I just mean, it’s so unexpected. Not that there’s anything wrong with working on your honeymoon. Or that this is your honeymoon. Maybe you’re off to another property afterward for a proper honeymoon? Not that this isn’t proper—”
Mateus stepped forward and stopped her babbling by taking his passport back. “It’s fine. I knew what I was getting into. You could say Crawford is married to his work. I’m a bit of an afterthought.”
The woman laughed. “We’re very grateful to have Mr. Hargrave working with us. Mr. Franklin has already checked in, and we’re so lucky to have both of them here. I hope you’ll have some time for sightseeing and, uh, other honeymoon things while you’re here.”
Her cheeks pinked, and Crawford flushed a bit as well. “You really don’t have to give us the penthouse, Michelle,” he said, reading her nametag. “In fact, I really must protest and insist you don’t. It should be left open for guests.”
“But you are guests,” a familiar voice said from behind him. Crawford cringed, and then steeled himself before turning.
“Davis,” he said as cordially as he could. He even managed a polite smile.
But Davis wasn’t looking at him. He was staring with avid interest at Mateus and the wedding ring on his finger.
“I had no idea you were getting married,” Davis said when he finally tore his eyes away and looked at Crawford. His cheek twitched, just like it always did when he was annoyed, but that was the only giveaway to show he wasn’t as enthusiastically pleased as his tone suggested. Davis always had been excellent at reading situations and acting exactly as he should. “And that you were bringing your new husband along to Vancouver.”
“They were just married,” Michelle said helpfully.
The twitch grew more pronounced. “Is that so?” he asked, giving Crawford a speculative look. “Well, then, I must agree with Michelle. We insist you take the penthouse suite. And you’ll join me for dinner tonight, won’t you? I was planning to dine here at the hotel with some of the management staff, but since this is a special occasion, I think that can wait. We can have the concierge secure a reservation somewhere appropriately festive.”
Crawford’s mouth fell open, but before he could let loose a scathing retort—Jesus, leave it to Davis to make Crawford’s remarriage all about him—Mateus spoke up.
“That is so kind of you, but I have plans for my husband tonight.” Mateus’s voice was like velvet, making it clear that those plans he so glibly referenced were definitely not for public consumption. He ran a proprietary hand up Crawford’s back and down his arm, twining their hands together.
Davis visibly flinched, his eyes widening. “Tomorrow, then. I insist. My treat, to celebrate. It really is amazing to see Crawford married again,” he said, his composure returning with his smirk. The look he gave Crawford was speculative, like he could see right through him. He’d always been a lot better at reading people than Crawford had. After all, he’d correctly sized Crawford up as a chump, hadn’t he?
“Ah, I don’t know if I’ll be done with him by then, but I don’t want to keep him from his work. I suppose I can share,” Mateus purred.
Davis colored a bit at the insinuation that he was nothing but a coworker. “I do wonder why you chose to get married right now,” Davis said, a gleam in his eye. “The timing is a bit curious. I mean, you hadn’t said anything about your husband-to-be in any of our conference calls, and then you get married the day you’re going to see me?” He turned to Mateus and lowered his voice conspiratorially. “Surely you know who I am. I can’t imagine Crawford hasn’t told you about me.”
Crawford felt like he was in the middle of a tennis match or a particularly vicious argument on some Real Housewives spin-off. He knew he should intervene, but he couldn’t seem to make himself speak. It would be so easy to smile and shrug Davis off, claiming they were tired and needed to get up to their room. It would be totally plausible that newlyweds would want alone time, but it was also mortifying that the clerk and the entire lobby would assume he and Mateus were going upstairs to have sex.
“Oh, he has,” Mateus said, his smile still firmly in place. He squeezed Crawford’s hand. “Shall we go up, meu amor? I am anxious to see this suite that the lovely Michelle has so kindly arranged fo
r us, and I’d like to have a little rest before our reservations tonight.”
Mateus’s accent seemed to thicken as he spoke, making his voice even more seductive. It had to be on purpose, and it was certainly having the desired effect. Davis visibly recoiled, and Michelle leaned in, charmed and completely under Mateus’s spell. Arousal stirred in Crawford’s belly, his blood heating despite his embarrassment and anxiety.
Michelle handed them a set of key cards and a cardboard folder. “Please allow me to call for a bellhop to bring your things up,” she said, her cheeks flushing as she smiled. “Your bags were delivered an hour ago, Mr. Hargrave. Room service will also be by momentarily with a bottle of champagne. We hope your stay will be pleasant.”
She blinked a few times and seemed to remember that Crawford was in fact there on business. She straightened a bit and took a breath. “And Mr. Fontes, please don’t hesitate to call our concierge if you need anything while Mr. Hargrave is in meetings. Vancouver is a wonderful city, and we can arrange for tours and transportation if you desire.”
Mateus grinned and swept his hair out of his face. God, he was good. Crawford could practically feel the jealousy radiating off Davis. This was marvelous. He hadn’t thought much about how he was going to handle snide comments about his relationships, but he’d known it would happen. Davis was a smug bastard, and he never took the high road. This was going to make things easier in a lot of ways.
And from the way Davis was silently fuming, it was going to complicate things too. Good thing Mateus would be hundreds of miles away by tomorrow afternoon. Crawford would have the benefit of his newly minted marital status to deflect any probing questions from Davis, but he wouldn’t be parading Mateus in front of him.