The Marriage Solution

by Megan Kelly

  “Do I got to go to it?” Jimmy asked.

  “No, if you and Lily want to stay at Lily’s aunt and uncle’s house, that’s fine.”

  The kids glanced across the table and held a silent conference.

  “We’d rather play at Uncle Adam’s,” Lily said in her whisper voice.

  “That would probably be best,” Tara said. “This is just boring grown-up stuff.”

  “What kind of job is it?” Jimmy asked.

  “What?”

  “You said it’s a kind of job.”

  “Oh.” Tara cleared her throat. “I’ll take care of Lily, just like I take care of you. Making sure she’s ready for school, putting her to bed, seeing that she eats healthy stuff. Like a nanny.”

  Or a mother. Dylan glanced at Lily. All good so far.

  Jimmy made a face. Dylan noticed the order in which she delivered her information, hiding the diciest aspect in the middle. Quite the strategist. He’d be wise to remember that.

  “Mom likes healthy stuff.” Jimmy shook his head in pity for Lily.

  “I’ll still be doing all those things for you, too, honey. Nothing is going to change between us.” She paused. “Except we’ll all live together. So you two can play together whenever you want.”

  “You’ll keep your own bedroom, sport,” Dylan said. “Lily, you can not only bring all your toys, but your own bed.”

  He waited for the boy’s reaction. Please let him be happy about this.

  Jimmy stared at the tablecloth for several long beats before he spoke. “If we’re like a family, is she gonna call you Mom?”

  Tara shook her head. “I’m still Miss Tara to her. I’ll be like a babysitter, but she’ll live with us. That will be less confusing at the Wee Care.”

  Jimmy’s scowl eased but his face showed the gears turning as he thought it over. “I guess it’s okay.”

  Dylan almost slumped to the floor as the tension left his body.

  “Lily?” Tara asked.

  Lily’s exuberant nod of approval sent her hair flying.

  “What do I call you?” Jimmy asked, pointing toward Dylan.

  Dylan wanted to tell the boy to call him whatever he felt comfortable calling him. But he waited. Obviously he wouldn’t be Dad, though why that should bother him, he didn’t know.

  He met Tara’s steady gaze, knew she wanted to tell Jimmy to continue to call him Mr. Ross. “Mustn’t get too familiar” was written on her face.

  “You can call him Dylan,” she said, relenting.

  Dylan recognized the line in the sand. Her son, her side. And damned if he didn’t want to obliterate it and cross over. Their marriage should be a joining together, not a sorting out.

  Maybe it was time to clear up a few things with his bride.

  Tara watched the kids rush to Lily’s room to play. A heavy silence pushed between the newly betrothed couple as they finished the dishes.

  “What will you tell your family?” she asked when she could stand it no longer. So many details to work out. So many emotional minefields to dodge. So many sexual vibrations to ignore.

  Dylan blew out a breath. “I’d like to tell Adam and Mom, but…if Mom’s called in to testify at your hearing as your employer, I don’t want her to perjure herself to protect our secret. So, I guess we tell them nothing.”

  Tara swallowed and draped the dishcloth across the faucet. “Then it’s just us committing fraud?”

  Dylan turned to her and took her hands. “Look, we’re in it now. I’ll do whatever I need to for Lily, but if you’re not certain, I have to know.”

  “We couldn’t wait to get married,” Tara said, rehearsing the story she would be telling everyone—even under oath. “We’re trying to make it work. I don’t have to specify what ‘it’ is.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  She cocked an eyebrow. “Only on paper. And I find it unsettling that your praise comes after I agree to lie in court.”

  “I know. I’m taking advantage of your feelings for Lily.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “Lily and Jimmy will both benefit. If I didn’t believe that, I couldn’t go through with this. No way can I let the Summerfields take Jimmy from me.”

  “Okay then.” Dylan pulled her forward and brushed a kiss on her lips.

  Despite the thrill of the light kiss, she eyed him with reproach and pulled away, tucking her hands safely in the pockets of her shorts. “Dylan.”

  “Just to seal the deal.” His playful grin had her wishing, just for an instant, their circumstances were different. The idea of them living together, of her feeling this attracted to him every day and every night, made her tense. A kiss meant nothing more to him than a smile.

  “Do you know how to do this?” she asked.

  “There’s a loaded question if I ever heard one.”

  She groaned. “You know what I mean. I’ve never gotten married before.”

  “Neither have I, but I did research it last night.”

  The knot in her stomach dissolved like melted butter. “You researched it?”

  “Sure.” He grinned at her. “The internet is a powerful tool.”

  She laughed at the reminder. A computer search would be second nature to him, like a potter using his hands to create.

  “We have to go together to apply for the license, and then we can get married right away.”

  “No waiting period?”

  He shook his head.

  “No blood test?”

  Again, a negative shake.

  “No certificate of sanity?”

  Dylan laughed. “No, and thank heaven for that. For a license, we just need identification and fifty bucks. I can go Tuesday, if you can get time off to run to the courthouse in Independence.”

  The speed of the process took her breath away, while her prospective groom’s matter-of-fact detailing of chores wrenched something inside her. Not that she expected romance, or even wanted it from Dylan. But she’d envisioned her wedding differently. As a love match, for one thing.

  “I’m sure my boss will understand.” Irony laced her tone.

  He grimaced. “I don’t like lying to my family, either. It’s just the best way to keep everyone else out of trouble.”

  “This is all such a mess.”

  “It’s the right thing for the kids, though.”

  “Remembering that will see me through this.” She leaned back against the counter.

  “Do you have a minister you’d like to have perform the ceremony? We could get married by a judge at the courthouse on a Friday or Saturday, but I think we should steer clear of involving too many court officials.”

  “I agree, and there’s no one in particular. Jimmy and I have been hit-and-miss about attending church. Although this might be a good time to start praying.”

  “I can see I’m going to have to be the optimistic partner in this marriage. Fortunately, Mom, Adam and Anne attend regularly with the kids, so the family name is in good standing, if not my own.” He ran a hand down her arm. “Would it be all right with you to get married in Adam’s backyard?”

  She ignored the tingle evoked by his caress. The man was a toucher. She’d have to get used to his habit and stem her initial reaction to frequent physical contact. Innocent contact. Meaningless. “That would be lovely. And it will look normal. If it’s not too much of an imposition.”

  “Anne will love it, which is good because we can get married right after we get the license Tuesday.”

  The blood drained from her face. “This Tuesday? In two days?”

  “The sooner the better, don’t you think?”

  She scrambled for a reason to delay. “But we’ll have to move in together afterward. I can’t do that on a weekday.”

  “We can get married Friday, then, and have Mom babysit so no one will know we’re not spending our wedding night together. Then we’ll move our stuff to your place on Saturday.”

  “Okay.” Things were moving so fast she could barely keep up. When Dylan set his mi
nd to doing something, he considered the details and formulated plans.

  “I’ll ask Adam to be my witness.”

  Deep breath, hold, exhale. Getting married couldn’t be worse than giving birth, and she’d gotten through that just fine—although she’d had drugs then. “I’ll ask Sandy to stand up with me. She teaches at the preschool and has been really nice to me. I’d like to ask your mom, but I hate to drag her into this when…” She shrugged.

  “When it’s going to end in less than a year.”

  “When it’s not real,” she added.

  “If Mom knew we were getting married to help Lily adjust and to keep Jimmy, she’d approve.”

  “If you say so.” Tara kept her doubts to herself.

  “Should we invite your parents?”

  Tara groaned. Could she get an epidural for the wedding as she’d had for the delivery? Being semiconscious sounded better by the moment.

  “And the Summerfields, too?” At her scowl, he added, “I know you don’t want to see them, but it might help mend bridges. Think how they’ll feel when they find out you got married and didn’t tell them.”

  “Do I care how they feel?”

  “Perhaps not,” he acceded, “but there’s no reason to provoke them. They might drop the case if they saw you doing something responsible.”

  “Marrying someone I’ve known for less than a month is responsible?”

  His smile produced those same tingles his touch did.

  “Wait till they see how I charmed you off your feet,” he said. “How could you resist?”

  “I forgot we have to pretend we’re in love. When we’re in public, I mean.”

  His expression sobered. “Oh, right. I’m sure we can do it.”

  “Lie back and think of England?”

  “Don’t kid yourself. England would be the furthest thing from your mind.” With a chuckle at her outraged squawk, he left the kitchen.

  Sexual longing surged through her at the thought of them making love, followed by a stern talk to her libido. Not now. Not him. Not real.

  Chapter Six

  They both asked for Tuesday afternoon off work, planning on leaving the children at day care while they applied for a marriage license. First, however, Dylan, Tara and his mom sat down in her office. He’d go through with the plan no matter what his mom’s reaction, but telling her was his and Tara’s first test as a couple. His mom’s approval mattered to him.

  “What’s going on?” she asked, glancing at them in turn.

  “Remember yesterday how I asked for the afternoon off?” Tara said.

  “We’ve got it covered, don’t worry. Why are you here, Dylan?”

  “Mom, I’ve asked Tara to marry me, and she said yes.”

  His mom dropped onto her chair, head swiveling between the two of them. “You asked…? You said…? You’re getting married? But you hardly know each other.”

  He put his arm around Tara’s waist, surprised that her slender form brought out his protective instincts. She so epitomized self-reliance, he sometimes forgot her youth and fragility. Her hair tickled his mouth as he turned to smile at her for his mom’s sake.

  “What can I say, Mom? You’ve always said she’s perfect for the day care, and it turns out she’s perfect for me, too.”

  “I know it’s impulsive,” Tara added.

  “I made her an offer she couldn’t refuse.”

  His mom shot him a skeptical look. “And what was that?”

  “She gets me as her husband.”

  His mom shook her head at Tara. “You should have held out for a better offer.”

  “Hey.” Dylan acted affronted, but he was relieved by her joke.

  “Well, I get Lily, too,” Tara said.

  His mom’s expression softened. “Oh, well, then. As long as you’re both sure?”

  “We are. I don’t know what I’d do if she’d refused me.” Dylan squeezed Tara’s waist, prompting her to echo his words.

  “It’s the right thing for me, too, Betty.”

  Tara’s tone needed work, but his mom seemed appeased. “When are you going to do it? Have you looked at dates?”

  Dylan cleared his throat. “We’re getting the marriage license today. We’d like to get married Friday evening in Adam’s backyard.”

  “Friday?” his mom all but shrieked.

  “I’m not pregnant,” Tara blurted out.

  He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. Of course that’s what his mom thought. That was what everyone would think.

  “Well, that’s a relief.” His mother speared him with her steel-blue gaze. “You’re already starting married life with two children.”

  “Mom, a pregnancy’s not even possible. I know getting married so soon seems crazy, but I’d appreciate your support.” He held his breath while she studied him.

  Finally, she sighed. “Well then, congratulations. And good luck. Do you want the children to stay with me tonight?”

  Tara shook her head. “We’re just getting the license today.”

  “But,” Dylan put in, “if you’d take them Friday night after the wedding, we’d appreciate it.”

  Tara stepped on his toes out of Betty’s sight as she readily agreed.

  Was he supposed to turn down a chance to be with his bride, to have a wedding night? That would look suspicious. “Thanks, Mom. That would be just great.”

  Tara dug her elbow into his ribs. “Yes, great.”

  THE LICENSE PROCESS at the Independence Courthouse Annex took less than fifteen minutes, once their turn came. Waiting for that turn gave them plenty of time for second, third and fifteenth thoughts, but neither backed out.

  “So,” he said outside the license office, “that part is over. You still want to do this?”

  At Tara’s nod of agreement, he let go of the breath he’d been holding. Help for Lily, he reminded himself again. Help for Lily. This piece of paper might restrain him like a roll of duct tape, but it represented freedom from worrying about his little girl. A fair trade-off, in his mind.

  Happy couples beamed for cameras held by family and friends in the bright sunshine. Tara had changed into a pink-and-yellow sundress that made her complexion glow. The functional redbrick building behind her only made her appear fresh and young.

  “I think I’m already remiss in my husbandly duties.”

  Tara looked at him quizzically.

  “I didn’t tell you how pretty you look. Did you buy that just for the wedding?”

  “It’s part of my princess wardrobe.”

  He took that to mean she’d had the dress for a long time. It probably cost more than the black suit he’d donned in honor of his bride, since he hated formal wear. She didn’t know him well enough to appreciate his gesture. Still, appearances mattered, especially in their situation.

  He’d worn this same black suit two weeks prior at Rosemary’s funeral. He made a mental note to retrieve his gray suit from the back of his closet for their wedding.

  If his bride could wear the same clothes she had worn as a teenager, she must have been an early bloomer with no inhibition about showing her curves, as the neckline revealed her womanly shape.

  Curves he wouldn’t get to enjoy, other than visually. This marriage thing had better cure their problems, as he’d no doubt suffer some cold showers and a colder bed.

  Or in his case, a colder couch.

  He wouldn’t even have his condo as a retreat once someone leased it. Sweat coated his skin with icy shivers.

  “I can’t wait to get it over with,” Tara said.

  He looked at his bride to be, feeling the same reluctance she wore on her face. Great. “Try to smile. We are getting married in three days.”

  She flashed him a radiant, albeit fake smile and then kissed him with tight-closed lips. “Better?”

  “Just great.”

  GETTING THE MARRIAGE LICENSE had been no problem, Tara thought. But actually walking outside to get married on a warm summer evening seemed impossible.

&nb
sp; This wasn’t the dream wedding she’d envisioned as a young girl, but it was the right wedding for her now. She didn’t mind her pink dress or having only one attendant. She didn’t need a church; she had a backyard of friends and new, if temporary, family. Two teachers of the three-year-olds at the day care, who didn’t have class on Fridays, had helped Anne and Betty decorate the yard and house with flowers, and had borrowed and set up chairs. The other teachers split up the day so the day-care duties would be covered with both Betty and Tara gone.

  Her father wouldn’t walk her down the aisle as she hadn’t asked him. Him “giving her away” at this stage of her life and with their past history felt hypocritical. Her parents had agreed to attend, however, and were probably sitting out there now, inspecting and criticizing the simple setup. No doubt they were comparing it to the high-society wedding they’d once envisioned for their daughter. She’d wanted to have only the Ross family in attendance and be married in the living room, perhaps by the fireplace. Dylan had countered that the more “normal” ceremony with friends in tow would appear more convincing in court. She drew the line at inviting Jay’s parents.

  Outside, as the late-afternoon sun warmed the yard, waited Dylan’s coworkers and friends, the immediate Ross family, her parents, the teachers from the preschool, plus her next-door neighbors. Tonight, she and Dylan would go to her duplex and sleep in separate beds. Tomorrow, she and the Ross brothers would move Dylan’s and Lily’s clothes and things to her house.

  If she could get through the ceremony.

  A knock came on the door frame of the bedroom where she’d changed into her dress. Dylan walked in, and Tara’s breath caught. His silver-gray suit and light pink shirt were set off by a gray silk tie and the pink carnation she’d provided. The wedding colors combined with his blond hair and deep tan sent a zing of desire to her core. The gray in his slate-blue eyes was more pronounced, partly by his outfit and partly by his emotions.

  “Wow.” He stepped in and took her hand, raised it to his lips for an old-fashioned but delightful kiss. Little tingles sped up her arm at the caress and the look of admiration—and desire—in his eyes.