Making Whoopie

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Making Whoopie Page 14

by Erin Nicholas


  “This isn’t really how I imagined you saying that to me,” she said, pointing toward the staircase.

  He started to climb. “Not how I imagined saying it either.”

  “Ugh!”

  He chuckled. “One thing at a time, tiger. I’ll be taking you to bed every night for a long time.”

  Her heart stuttered at those words. That sounded amazing. She wouldn’t even mind if he carried her to bed. She would never admit that to her strong, feisty, best friends, but yeah, she liked this. A lot.

  But would he be doing it for a long time? Maybe to Grant a long time was three months. To her a long time, at least in terms of marriage, was fifty to sixty years. She sighed. This marriage was practical. It would be fun and sexy too, which was great. But it was not a till-death-do-us-part kind of marriage. In fact, she’d kind of like to leave that out of the service, come to think of it. She did not want to promise that in front of her friends and family and God and all, knowing that it was until her stomach healed and her debt was paid off.

  She was going to have to look up how long it took people to recover from gall bladder surgery. She was guessing that, even if she milked it a little, it wasn’t going to get her to her silver wedding anniversary.

  “Which one?” Grant asked at the top of the stairs.

  “Second on the right.”

  He stepped through the doorway to her bedroom, and Josie was struck by three things at once. How damned big he was, how feminine her bedroom was, and how much she wanted him to stay.

  This wasn’t the master bedroom of the house, but it was the one that Josie had stayed in when she’d been a little girl visiting her grandparents. Even though she’d lived in Appleby too, spending the night at Grandma and Grandpa’s house had been a treat, and she’d slept over often. She had incredibly good, warm, happy memories here, and when she’d moved into the house, it had felt wrong to sleep in any other room.

  Grant set her down on the edge of her bed. The duvet was a light green that went with the pale green walls and white wood trim around the doorway and windows and the baseboards. She had only sheer curtains over the windows because she loved the sunlight, and this room got amazing morning sun.

  All of her white, wooden bedroom furniture had been handed down to her with the house, including the rocking chair in the corner with the pile of books next to it and the green, blue, and white blanket that her grandmother had knitted for her draped over the arm. She’d slept in this bed, though she’d replaced the mattress a few years ago, when she’d been a little girl. Her mother had rocked her in that rocking chair. She’d played dress-up with dresses and hats and shoes dug out of the large trunk that sat at the foot of the bed and had played with makeup in the enormous round mirror over the dressing table that sat across the room. It had been her mother’s. Kate Asher had done her makeup and hair at that dressing table for her dates with Josie’s dad.

  The trunk now held blankets and photo albums and the dressing table drawers were full of the actual makeup Josie used now, but everything in this room had memories attached to it. Lifelong memories.

  And she was about to marry a guy with the intention of it being short term.

  Looking at the trunk where she hadn’t even realized she’d planned to store her wedding dress and veil after her wedding, she decided that they couldn’t have an actual wedding. No gorgeous dress with a long train. No veil. No flowers. No photographs. Hell, they shouldn’t even have a ceremony.

  “Do you think we could elope?”

  Grant’s attention came back to her immediately. He thought about her question. “Absolutely,” he said after only a few seconds.

  Wow, that hadn’t been difficult for him to decide. But Josie refused to let that bother her. She nodded. “Great. I think we should go away for the weekend, let everyone know that—well, maybe not my grandma,” she said with a frown. “But our friends, I mean. We’ll go away for the weekend saying that we’re having such a good time that we decided I should go to your seminar to help out. Then we’ll find a justice of the peace? A judge? Whatever. And when we come back we’ll tell them that we… got drunk and a little crazy, but that we’re going to see what happens.”

  He nodded. “Okay. On all of it except the drunk part.”

  “No?”

  “I don’t get drunk.”

  That didn’t surprise her. “Okay. Then we’ll just get caught up in the moment. The romance. The sex. Whatever.”

  “I don’t really do that either.”

  She nodded. “You’re going to have to sell it. I mean, what other story are we going to use?”

  “Well, fortunately you sent me those cupcakes,” he said, the corner of his mouth curling slightly.

  “Oh?”

  “I acted… uncharacteristically happy and possessive about those,” he said.

  “Did you?” She liked how that sounded. At least this wasn’t completely platonic. It wasn’t a business deal. It was… it was kind of a business deal. She could admit that. But they were… friends. Kind of. He was a friend helping her out with something. There was some emotion here. A lot of it was lust, maybe, but it went a little beyond that. Fuck buddies didn’t sit in urgent care. Or offer to commit insurance fraud.

  “I did,” he said. “And I think that made the guys think that something was going on that was more than… anything else before.”

  She lifted her brows.

  He blew out a breath, tucking his hands into his pockets. He looked a little uncomfortable or… vulnerable. That’s what it was. He looked vulnerable.

  Josie sat up a little straighter.

  “I like you,” he finally said. He was looking at her knees. “I like you, and I feel very strangely protective of you, and I’m… addicted to something here. Something that makes me want to stay and have more. More of… whatever it is.” His eyes lifted to hers. “And yes, the men who have been my friends and partners for nine years can tell all of that.”

  Okay, that was all pretty great. It wasn’t madly in love and wanting to spend the rest of his life with her, but it wasn’t I basically see you as a charity and need to make a big donation so I can sleep at night.

  “So they might believe this?”

  “They might.” He shrugged. “I’ll make them believe it.”

  She smiled. She believed that. Grant definitely had a way of presenting his arguments. She figured he didn’t lose very often.

  “Will your friends believe it of you?”

  “That I ran off for a romantic weekend with the guy who has literally swept me off my feet and ended up married to him?” She gave a soft chuckle. “I should actually probably be worried by how easily they’re going to believe that.”

  He gave her a little grin. “So we can pull it off?”

  “I think so.”

  “We can fly to Chicago tomorrow,” he said. “I can make some calls and get something arranged with a judge. The seminar is on Saturday. We can stay Sunday and… see the city. And we can be home Sunday night in time for you to call and schedule your surgery Monday.”

  See the city? She didn’t want to see Chicago. She wanted to spend the day in bed with her hot, would-be-by-then husband.

  Then again… she kind of wanted to see the city. Her parents and grandparents both always wanted to travel and had never been able to. She was excited about the idea of the plane and everything that this would entail.

  “That sounds good.” Then she tipped her head. “Will it look suspicious if we get married, and three days later I’m scheduling surgery?”

  He shook his head. “Zoe saw your attack today at the bakery. We’ll just say that it happened again and the surgery was emergency.”

  “But Cam knows we went to urgent care,” she pointed out.

  “Cam won’t say anything,” Grant said easily.

  “You’re sure?”

  “I totally trust him.”

  “Oh, I do too. But will he know he shouldn’t say something?” Josie wanted to know.

&nb
sp; “I’ll fill him in.”

  “So, Cam will know our secret. That we’re married for the insurance.”

  “Yes. But he’ll have to help with the paperwork and everything anyway,” Grant said. “I’m hoping he can pull strings with one of the judges.”

  She nodded. “Okay.”

  Grant moved to stand in front of her and tipped her chin up with his finger. “What’s wrong?”

  She shrugged, feeling silly. “I just… I know it’s not going to be real, but I thought if we were the only ones that knew that then maybe it would… feel a little real.”

  “It’s going to be real, Jocelyn,” Grant said. “The marriage will be real.”

  “But it’s not…” She took a breath. She was not going to whine to him about how they weren’t in love. He knew that. And he did not want to be stuck, even temporarily, with a crazy, love-at-first-sight believer. “It’s not like we want to get married,” she finally said.

  He crouched in front of her, taking her chin between his finger and thumb. “I do want to marry you. Maybe the reasons aren’t entirely conventional, but the desire to be your husband is real.”

  She so appreciated him not saying maybe I don’t love you but… She smiled and leaned in, putting her lips against his. “Okay.”

  He kissed her, then pulled back. “By the way, I’m staying tonight.”

  “Good.”

  “But no sex.”

  She pouted. She knew that made sense. Her side was achy, and she was still freaked out, and things between them were a little weird. Mostly good weird, but still weird. Still… Grant in her bed all night without any of that?

  “You need to rest tonight,” he said, smiling at her disappointed expression. “You’ve had a lot of pain, and it’s been emotional, and you need your sleep.”

  He was even taking care of her now.

  “And I’m going to text Aiden and have him tell Zoe that I’m whisking you off to Chicago tomorrow and that you won’t be in.”

  “No!” She gripped his wrist. “No. Seriously, Grant. I have to work in the morning. It’s our busiest time, and it’s too late for her to get her mom to help fill in.”

  “She knows you weren’t feeling well.”

  “I would have told her by now if I couldn’t be there,” Josie insisted.

  Zoe depended on her. Yes, it made taking time off and sick days complicated, but Buttered Up was Josie’s too. Not officially. It had been in the McCaffery family for three generations and the family was… traditional. Okay, that was a nice word for set in their ways. Stubborn. Stuck.

  Still, Josie loved Buttered Up and working with Zoe, and she truly felt as invested in the bakery as if it was partly hers.

  “I’ll be okay. I’ll rest, and I’ll eat carefully in the morning. We can head to Chicago in the afternoon.”

  He didn’t look happy but he nodded. “Fine. But we’ll leave right after the morning rush. Not afternoon. Maggie can get there by then.”

  It was a compromise. And Grant coming in and whisking her off for a surprise getaway would be an easier sell than Josie planning a trip. That just wasn’t something she would normally do. She’d never been on an airplane. Never been to a city bigger than Des Moines. Never gone out of town with a boyfriend.

  It would also play into something is different about Grant and Josie that would help when they came back married.

  “Fine, but you have to come in as if it’s a last-minute-surprise romantic trip,” she said. “You have to basically kidnap me.”

  He gave her that half smile. “Hmm. Should I bring handcuffs and a blindfold? That could be fun later in the weekend.”

  She felt a hot shiver go through her. “I wouldn’t say no.”

  Something flickered in his eyes as his smile grew. “Yeah. That’s something I really like about you.”

  She smiled. “Okay, so if there’s no sex tonight and I’m going into work in the morning before we leave, you don’t have to stay.”

  “Yes, I do. In case you get sick in the night or need something.”

  He said it firmly, and she felt her head nodding. “Okay.”

  It wasn’t needy of her to want him to stay. She just… wanted him to stay. She liked him, and she was kind of hoping this might turn into more than just a favor—and a little insurance fraud—between friends. She wasn’t going to lie about wanting it to be more. If it didn’t turn into more, fine. They were going in eyes-wide-open. She wasn’t going to trick him or manipulate him. But could she show him what a real relationship with her would be like and hope that he liked it? Why not?

  They were going to be married. Might as well give it a fair shot. She couldn’t, in good conscience, stand up in front of her family and friends in a church and take wedding vows that she knew might not stick, but once she was bound to Grant legally, even if he saw it as temporary, she could definitely try to make the marriage real and enjoyable for the time they had. She knew a lot about happy marriages. Maybe not from her own experience, but she’d been around two, observing them daily, up close, her whole life.

  Of course, she needed to get past the puking and stabbing pain and then the bloody bandages and possible post-op puking part of all of this first. She really needed to look some things up about gall bladder surgery. Still, it was probably the least sexy thing she’d ever done with a member of the opposite sex.

  “Okay,” Grant repeated. “Great.” He seemed relieved she wasn’t arguing.

  He stretched to his feet and toed off his shoes as he started to undo his jeans.

  She blew out a breath. She’d really love to stay and watch him undress. “You’re going to strip right in front of me and then tell me we can’t have sex?” she asked, watching his long, thick fingers undo the buttons and zipper.

  He paused. “I… yeah, I guess that’s what I was doing.”

  “You could sleep in the guest bedroom,” she suggested.

  “I’m not doing that.”

  She looked up at him, just then aware that her gaze had still been on the fly of his jeans. “Why not?”

  “You’re going to be my wife. I’m sleeping in your bed.”

  Dammit. It wasn’t really real but when he said “my wife” her heart flipped over. “Even when I’m sick?”

  “Maybe especially when you’re sick.”

  See? That was romantic. She didn’t care what anyone said.

  She took a deep breath. “And the sex thing tonight? Definitely off the table?”

  “As much as I’d love to,” he said. “I think it’s best. It would really bother me for you to have pain in the middle of it.”

  She believed him. If nothing else, she already knew that Grant was very bothered by her pain. That was also romantic. “Okay. Then I’m going to go brush my teeth while you undress. You be under the covers when I get back.” She pointed at the bed.

  He grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”

  She smiled and stepped around him.

  “Hey, Jocelyn?”

  “Yeah?” She looked back. She was stunned by how much she liked seeing him undressing next to her bed. It was a physical reaction from her attraction to him, for sure, but there was something softer too. A comfort in having him there and just a feeling of rightness.

  “Could you put your pajamas on while you’re in there? I see what you mean about the stripping in front of each other.”

  She grinned. “Well, I should maybe torture you a little since this is your rule.”

  She loved the idea that she even could torture him. That his attraction to her was strong enough that watching her undress would have been tempting too.

  “But,” she went on, “yes, I can do that.”

  He blew out a breath. “Thank you.”

  She put a hand on her hip. “You really thought I’d make you watch me undress?”

  “You’re… sassier than I expected,” he told her. “The torture things seems like something you might do.”

  Josie lifted an eyebrow. “I’m sassy?”

  �
��You have some definite sass in you,” he said with a nod. And a tiny frown.

  She liked that. She was nothing compared to Jane and Zoe. Nothing. Those two were fighters and the epitome of sassy. But it was inevitable that they would rub off on her a little, she supposed. “Well, thank you.”

  His tiny frown grew bigger. “I’m not sure it’s a compliment. I don’t love it.”

  “You mean, you don’t love it when I’m using the sassiness on you.”

  “Exactly.”

  She laughed. “You like when people listen to you.”

  “Love it.”

  “Yeah, I’ve already figured that out, and we haven’t even known each other that long.”

  Why people wouldn’t listen to Grant she couldn’t really say. He wasn’t just bossy. He exuded confidence and assuredness that was downright comforting. He was clearly intelligent and successful. Why wouldn’t someone assume he knew what he was talking about?

  But she hadn’t just gone along with his ideas, had she? She’d fought him on going to urgent care. She’d fought him on letting him pay her bills. She’d been worried—for the right reasons—and wanting to take care of herself. She’d made him compromise and come up with a plan that she could live with. That wasn’t perfect but… was kind of perfect in many ways. And when he had finally presented the compromise, where she got something she wanted and needed and so did he, she’d agreed.

  She hadn’t just fallen at his feet, but she hadn’t stubbornly insisted she was right to the detriment of everything.

  She’d like to think that was all very reasonable.

  “And I can already tell that you’re going to be difficult sometimes,” he said.

  Josie nodded. “That’s probably true.”

  “I’ll be sure to have the judge add the ‘honor and obey’ line to our wedding service,” he said, the corner of his mouth curling up.

  She rolled her eyes. “Well, that will make me really compliant with my medical orders so that I heal and recover as quickly as possible.”

  So that they could annul the marriage or whatever they were going to do as soon as possible.

  She didn’t add that part, but they both knew that’s what she was referring to.

 

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