Take Me

by Diane Alberts

  “Um, okay. You realize Hugh and I are just friends, right?”

  “You might feel that way. He doesn’t.”

  She lifted a shoulder. “Oh well. That doesn’t stop him from giving me a ride home.”

  “I’ll come get you.” He yanked his shirt over his head, trying to get a hold of himself. He grabbed his keys and the room card and headed for the door. “After all, I am your husband.”

  He heard a rustling sound behind him. “Soon to be annulled husband.”

  He stopped, his hand on the knob. A weight sat in his chest, heavy and begging to be let free. “Honey? What we just did right there wasn’t just any fucking. That was consummation.”

  And with that, he stormed into the hallway, closing the door behind him. Something slammed against it and a string of curses so colorful they even made him blush sounded from within the room. Shaking his head, he closed his eyes against the harsh reality of day.

  Closed himself away from her…at least until he could figure out what the hell to do next.

  Chapter Nine

  Morgan threw her boot at the door but it fell short of making her feel any better. Just like all the rest of her best laid plans. Like, oh, what was that again? Riiight. Not getting married and tied down to a man. And she’d done so freaking great with that goal so far. Well, she had up until Mike, anyway. Then, all it had taken was a night of drinking and mind-blowing sex and she’d decided it was a great idea to marry the idiot.

  Ugh.

  She shoved her hair out of her face and tried to ignore the way her hands shook. What was he going to do next? What would he say? He had said something about refusing to annul their marriage but that had been a joke…hadn’t it? He couldn’t seriously want to stay married to her. Why would he?

  He was just as much against marriage as she was, if not more.

  Besides, he couldn’t make her stay married if she didn’t want to be, no matter how much sex they had.

  She slapped on her boots and stomped her way to the door. If he thought she would just lie down and wait for him to decide to do the right thing, then he had another thing coming.

  When she ripped the door open, she found him in the hallway, leaning against the wall with a resigned look on his face. He looked so alone that for a brief second, she forgot how mad she was. Then he sighed and gave her a cocky, assessing look and the anger came back full force.

  “What game are you playing?” She marched right up to him, hands on her hips. “And why are you still out here?”

  “I don’t know. And I don’t know.” He rubbed his forehead. “When it comes to you, and us, I have no fucking clue what I’m doing.”

  “I noticed.” She gave an uneasy laugh. “You married me, after all.”

  He eyed her and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yeah. I did. I haven’t stopped thinking about why I would have possibly married you, feeling the way I do about marriage. I wouldn’t have done it without a damned good reason.”

  “Because you were drunk,” she offered.

  “I’ve been drunk before. I’ve never been married, though. Why you? Why now?”

  His thoughts were so eerily close to hers, it scared her. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to be married and neither do you. The only thing to do is fix it. Make it go away. You can send me my portion of the bill when it’s over.”

  He lifted his hand and his fingers lightly grazed her jaw. Then he ran his thumb over her lower lip, his touch barely there. “And never see you again? Forget that for a second last night, I actually wanted love? Marriage? The normal things normal people want?”

  She swallowed hard. “You don’t love me. We barely know each other.”

  “Yet.”

  “Yet.”

  “I can’t shake this feeling that I didn’t make a mistake last night.” He met her eyes hesitantly, as if he didn’t want to see her reaction to his shocking words. “That we didn’t make a mistake, and maybe we should think some more before moving on.”

  “I don’t think so.” She licked her lips, her tongue brushing against his thumb. His sea green eyes darkened and he watched her mouth. “Given our past couple of days, maybe we should avoid knowing each other better. Maybe we should stop seeing each other, before we forget our own goals. Clearly we’re a reckless combination.”

  He cocked his head. “Goals? Like dancing across the United States.”

  “Yes.”

  “And if I’m not sure that giving us up is the best thing?”

  “Then open your eyes.” She grabbed his hand, squeezed it, and dropped her hold on him. “Because you’re being blinded by something.”

  She walked away from him, her steps slow but steady. Half of her expected him to chase after her and the other half wished he wouldn’t. She wasn’t sure what the heck she felt when he didn’t follow her. But it was for the best, really. They needed to stop this odd game of house they were playing. Needed to wake the hell up and stay away from each other.

  Too bad that by the time her shift was over at the bar that night, she was antsy and wondering if he was still coming for her. Would he still pick her up, or would he listen to her advice from earlier and avoid her like the plague?

  Hugh came up behind her, too close, and rested his hands on her shoulders. What had once felt like a friendly touch now felt…wrong. Was Mike right? Did Hugh really want more than friendship from her? She’d never paid much attention to it before but he was standing awfully close to her. “Do you still have a ride home, or do you want to go home with me?”

  She swallowed and fought the urge to shrug free. Why did that sound so filled with unspoken promises? “I think I have a ride.”

  “That guy?” Hugh asked, his hands falling back to his sides.

  “Yeah. He’s my…my…”

  “Husband is the word you’re looking for, wife,” Mike said, his voice hard.

  She refused to look into the fact that her pulse leapt at Mike’s voice. Refused to acknowledge that she was happy he’d come. She turned away from Hugh, forgetting all about the odd encounter. “Temporary wife, you mean.”

  He shrugged, his heated gaze pinning her in place. “If you say so.”

  She rolled her eyes, but inside she felt so…alive. “Obviously you didn’t listen to my advice.”

  “When have I ever listened to other people’s opinions when it comes to my happiness?”

  She dropped the white rag on the bar top and threw up her hands. “I don’t know. I barely know you.”

  He curled his fingers around the nape of her neck and gently urged her mouth down on his. She didn’t bother to pretend she even wanted to fight his hold. Just kissed him back. When he released her, he smirked. “There. Now you know me well enough to know that I’ll kiss you into silence when you won’t stop arguing.”

  She flicked her tongue over his lips playfully. “And you know me well enough to know my reaction will be running away.”

  She shoved his shoulders back, grinning when he flopped back onto the barstool, and skirted around the edge of the bar. The speakers blared a Carrie Underwood song and she practically skipped to the exit. He caught up with her outside of the door, pressing his body against hers, tilting her face up to his.

  “You’re playing me like a fucking fiddle, aren’t you?”

  “No.” She said seriously and met his eyes. “I’m not.”

  “Then tell me the truth. Do you honestly want me to walk away and never see you again? To annul this marriage and forget it ever happened? Or are you the slightest bit curious why we married each other in the first place? If, while drunk, we had an idea that might actually be a good one?”

  She clung to his arms, holding on tight. “What do you mean?”

  He took a deep breath. “I have a proposal.”

  “Isn’t that wh
at got us in trouble in the first place??”

  His brows slammed down. “You came up with the idea. I just said yes.”

  “Oh my God.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m so not going there again.”

  He rubbed her shoulders and she closed her eyes, feeling the tension ease in her tight muscles. If husbands did this, then she might have to keep him around.

  “But anyway, back to my proposal.”

  “Go for it—just keep massaging me while you ask.”

  He gave a soft laugh and continued rubbing her. “Fair enough.” He inhaled, seemed to be gathering up the courage to say what he had to say. She opened her eyes and watched. “I’ve done way too much thinking lately. And I keep coming back to the same thing. We got married, despite our mutual dislike for the state of matrimony, and it has to be for a reason, right?”

  “No, it doesn’t have to be.” She swallowed past the agreement she could feel building inside of her, not wanting to acknowledge it. “It was a silly night, nothing more.”

  “You can’t really feel that way. Not after this morning.” His fingers froze on her. “Not after the way we both react to one another.”

  She blew out a sigh, neither confirming his assumptions nor denying them. “What do you want from me, Mike?”

  “I don’t want anything from you. Rather, from us.” He took a shaky breath. “How about if we give this crazy idea a few days to settle down? Have some hot, honeymoon sex in our hotel room and maybe see how we feel about this? Try this whole marriage thing out a bit before we run away from each other.”

  She stiffened. A handful of days in his arms? Being his wife without any long-term expectations of actually being his wife? It sounded great. Too great, which is why she should say no. “Why would we do that?”

  “Because we owe it to ourselves to try it out.” He ran a hand through his hair, his expression intense. “What if drunk Mike and drunk Morgan had the right idea? What if we were wrong to panic this morning?”

  “I don’t think—”

  He melded his mouth to hers, his kiss gentle and soft. “Then don’t think. Just feel. How do you feel about me?”

  “I don’t know. I…I…don’t want to walk away.” She curled her fingers into his shirt. “Which is why I should. I’ve always wanted to leave. To move on. But with you it’s different. I’m different.”

  “I’m different, too.” His arms tightened around her. “That’s exactly why we should stay together for at least a couple of days. Both of us have avoided commitment for all of our lives but we both want to stay. To try. I can’t believe I’m actually saying this, but maybe that means something. Maybe we mean something, together.”

  She rested her forehead on his chest. He made it sound so perfectly logical. But logic didn’t have a place in marriage and she knew that. Look at what happened to her mother. She’d given up her successful career as a prima ballerina to marry her father and have Morgan.

  That’s exactly why logic didn’t have a place in marriage.

  Besides, if she let him inside her defenses, how would she ever get him out? And yet…

  Maybe it wouldn’t be so crazy. He was only asking for a few days, really. A short-term relationship that just happened to have two rings and a piece of paper attached to it. No big deal, really, when you looked at it subjectively. She already knew he blew her mind in bed. Why not have a little bit more time with him, getting him out of her system, and then she would move on, like she always did.

  And she would, at the end of the week. She’d leave.

  “And if one of us decides it isn’t working before our time is over?” she asked. “If one of us wants out right away?”

  “At any point, you can walk away. I can, too. This is just a trial period. If we decide we were right to avoid marriage, then we end it. No notice. No warning.” He kissed her temple. “We just leave.” He kissed her jaw, inching closer to her mouth. “But if we want to stay? Then who knows what’ll happen? If nothing else, we’ll just enjoy that amazing hotel suite a few more days.” He brushed his lips against hers, so gently she almost missed it. It was amazing how such a simple kiss could feel so darn strong. “So, what do you say? Yes or no?”

  She studied him. He looked so sure of himself, yet vulnerability gleamed in his eyes. How was such a contradiction even possible? It made her want to wrap him in her arms and never let go. That wasn’t exactly a good way to start proving her desire to be independent. But when she opened her mouth to bid him goodnight, she heard herself say, “Yes. I’ll do it.”

  He kissed her sweetly. But when she clung to his biceps, he moved closer to her. His tongue slipped inside of her mouth without a moment’s hesitation. She gripped him, unable to believe she’d agreed to stay married. Unable to believe she could be so stupid. But apparently, when it came to Mike, she could be pretty freaking stupid.

  Because she was going to stay, even though she knew she should go.

  Someone cleared their throat, and they broke apart. Brianna Jones stood there, her arms crossed. “Are you molesting my employees, Mike?”

  “Uh. Not exactly.” Mike dropped his arms, his eyes darting between the two women. She could tell he couldn’t decide whether or not to admit he’d gotten married. And why should he? This was only a temporary arrangement. “I knew her before I found out she worked here.”

  Morgan smiled at Brianna. “We met the other night at his friend’s bachelor party.”

  “Oh.” Brianna looked at Morgan, then back at Mike. “And you’re kissing her in my hallway because…?”

  Mike’s cheeks turned red. He actually turned red. Morgan didn’t think a certified bachelor lady-killer like him was still capable of such a tender emotion as embarrassment, but apparently he was. Huh. Who knew? He quickly recovered and a smirk spread slowly across his face. “If I have to answer that, then I need to have a little talk with Thomas about how to properly take care of a woman.”

  Brianna blushed even harder than Mike. Morgan watched them both, unable to look away. She’d never had siblings, so seeing the banter between these two was enlightening. And…weird. Very weird. “I assure you, Thomas knows what to do with me.”

  “After a year or two of marriage?” Mike snorted. “I’d hope so.”

  “Okay, that’s enough. Stop making this about me. Excuse us for a second.” Brianna grabbed his elbow and hauled him far enough away that Morgan couldn’t hear what they said.

  They both glanced at her at one point and she shifted on her feet. What were they saying? And how long was she supposed to stand here, pretending they weren’t talking about her? “Is everything okay over there?” Morgan asked, unable to stand their muted conversation another second.

  Mike caught Morgan’s gaze over Brianna’s head and made a shooting gesture at his temple. Morgan smiled. Brianna, however, looked less than amused. She made some quick movement that made Mike groan and stumble back a little, then turned to Morgan with an innocent expression on her face.

  “Yes, just give us a second,” Brianna called out. After one last, uncomfortable minute, the siblings finally separated. Brianna came back to Morgan and smiled, even if it was a bit tight. “It was nice seeing you again, Morgan. Thanks for filling in.”

  Morgan nodded and slid her left hand behind her back. Why hadn’t she taken that darn ring off? Was Mike still wearing his? She tried to steal a peek but couldn’t tell. “Anytime you need anything, you let me know.”

  “Same to you.” Brianna cast a long look in Mike’s direction, then sighed. “And trust me, you’ll need all the luck in Vegas if you’ll be hanging around him.”

  Brianna walked away, leaving Morgan and Mike alone again.

  “Sorry about that,” he said, shuffling up to her.

  “It’s okay.” He held his hand out, which still had the ring on it, and she slid hers into it after a moment’
s hesitation. “What did you tell her?”

  “That we knew each other.” He shrugged. “I didn’t want her to know about the marriage thing yet. I mean, who knows what’s going to happen, right?”

  Nothing. Nothing was going to happen. Because she didn’t want to be married, and neither did he. Morgan nodded. “Okay. Sounds good.”

  She pulled free of his grip and closed her fingers around her cool band, but he rested his palm on her knuckles. “Whoa. What are you doing?”

  “If you don’t want people to know, then I should take this off.” She glanced down at his ring. “This is going to fail, so there’s no point in us wearing them. Or telling anyone. I agree with you, for once.”

  He clenched his jaw. “Why are you so certain it’ll fail?”

  “I might not know you that well but I know me. I don’t want to be tied down. I want to be free.” Speaking of which…she pulled free of his grip. “What if I get the role in Chicago? Will my loving husband just sit back and let me go, not giving a damn that I’m halfway across the country without him?”

  He paused, as if considering the situation. “Sure. Why not?”

  “Because in my experience, that doesn’t happen. In my experience, men want the woman to give up all of her dreams and become a pretty, barefoot and pregnant housewife who cooks while wearing red heels and a checkered apron.”

  “Heels and an apron, you say?” He rubbed his jaw. “I could definitely work with that, as long as that’s the only thing you’ll be wearing in our kitchen. You don’t even have to cook. Just stand there.”

  She smacked her palm against her forehead. “Oh my God. This is why I didn’t want to get married.”

  “Because I want to see you practically naked in heels?” He cocked his head and stared at her feet. “Scratch that. Just keep the boots on.”

  “Not happening.”

  “Fine, you can wear heels.” He let out a dramatic sigh. “Look at us. Compromising already. This marriage stuff is easy.”

  She choked on a laugh but slapped his arm as she passed him. “God, you’re so annoying.”