Harlan blinked. "Barbeque?"
Emma sucked in her breath. "I forgot about that." She glanced at Harlan. "I think we'll skip it—"
"Skip it?" Clare set her hands on her hips. "You want to skip the opening night of the Shakespeare Festival? That's an outright crime, my friends."
Emma cleared her throat. "See, here's the thing, Clare. It turns out that the home study is tomorrow, and the social worker is expecting Harlan to be here. We have to figure out how to act like we're madly in love and solidly married by tomorrow at noon."
Harlan raised his brows, realizing that Emma must have confided the truth in Clare. He liked that she'd had someone to talk to while he was gone. "I need to find out all her secrets," he added, "you know, the kinds of things only a husband would know."
Clare rolled her eyes, giving them both an exasperated sigh. "And you think you're going to figure that out sitting here like two geeky teenagers on their first date? The tension between you two is ridiculous, and no social worker is going to buy it."
Harlan swore under his breath. He had no damned idea how to be married, or even in a real relationship. He'd been very careful not to get attached, and he'd been completely successful. Until now.
"What better way to get more relaxed with each other than to go out and socialize like normal people? Try winning Emma a stuffed animal at one of the booths. Share a hot pretzel. Drink beer. Watch fireworks. Deal with gossipy people from the town." Clare eyed them both. "Isn't the social worker going to need references from friends and family? How are you going to get people to swear that you two are a great couple if you don't go out there and mingle?"
Mingle. Mingle? "I don't mingle—" Then he saw the expression on Emma's face. Pure, unmitigated yearning to go to the barbeque. She was like a little girl, so excited for a night out with her friends. And Clare was right. They did need the town to buy into it. For Emma, and for a little girl who needed a chance. Knowing he was probably going to regret it, he shrugged. "All right. We'll go."
Clare grinned, but when Emma's face lit up, he knew he'd socialize all damn night to see that look on her face again. And that, he figured, was kind of a major problem. Getting addicted to Emma's smiles could lead only to trouble.
But after seeing her grin, it was trouble he was willing to risk. At least, for tonight.
***
Emma bit her lip nervously as Harlan pulled his truck in between two pine trees beside the town fields that had been converted into the fairgrounds for the next ten days. A small Ferris wheel topped the skyline, plus an assortment of other rides. At the far end of the field were the carnival booths with silly games and cheap food, but at the near end of the field were the booths manned by the locals: crafts, food, beer, and everything else created and designed by people who cared. Those booths were draped in velvet cloths with real geraniums, and the vendors knew the names of half the people attending. Beside the entrance was the same antique carousel that had been set up by the farmer from Surrey who had been bringing it for fifty years, since the time when it was the only ride at the entire fair.
She'd had her first kiss on that carousel, and many afterwards. Seeing it made her a little bit nostalgic for the days when all that mattered was whether her socks matched her belt and the right guy thought she was cute.
Nowadays, if a guy thought she was cute, she was more likely to run away screaming than fix her lipstick and flutter her eyelashes at him. Glancing over at Harlan, she added a third option to her cute guy response: marry him. Oy.
The beautiful weather had resulted in the place being packed both with lots of summer folk and a healthy share of locals as well. Everywhere she looked, she saw people who had known her for her entire life. People who had watched her go on her first date, cry when her parents left town, and drive off with a summer guy to get married and start her new life. People who knew her well. Too well. She would never be able to fool them.
She sighed and leaned back against the seat, suddenly not feeling quite so eager to leap out and join the crowds that had called to her since childhood. "How on earth am I going to convince them that we're madly in love and the perfect parents for Mattie? They know me better than that."
Harlan eased the truck to a stop and shifted into park. "You mean, they know you'd be a rotten mother?"
She glanced at him with a small smile. "No, I mean they will be able to tell that we barely know each other. They've seen us in town for the last few years. Everyone knows we've hardly spoken to each other until this marriage thing. How are they going to believe we suddenly fell in love?"
Harlan leaned toward her. "Sweetheart, even total strangers can fall madly in love with each other within moments." He traced his finger over her jaw. "You don't need to know the name of someone's fifth grade homeroom teacher to know whether your souls connect."
Her heart started to pound at the intimacy. "Don't say romantic things like that, or I will fall in love with you."
He laughed. "Never. I'm the most unlovable guy there is." He dropped his hand. "But, I do think that we can pull this off. If we don't, Mattie goes to South Carolina, right?"
Emma nodded. "Yes—"
"Then you, my dear, must instantly fall head over heels in love with a man that you have worshipped from afar for years, and who instantly fell into your lap like a lost dog who finally found his home."
She giggled at his goofy expression. "You're the dog?"
"I'm the dog," he agreed. "But a really cute one. Floppy ears and stuff. Instant love. No one will blame you for falling victim to my charms." He winked at her, giving her a look so ridiculously innocent she laughed out loud.
She grinned, relaxing. Any man who could put on that goofy of a look was simply not to be feared. "My heart is melting," she teased. "I have this weird urge to feed you dog bones."
"Awesome. I love dog bones." He looked past her, and a thoughtful expression creased his brow. "We've been spotted."
Emma twisted around and saw a group of locals she'd known for years pointing at his truck. Her stomach tightened. "Oh—"
"Let's make this convincing, sweetheart." Harlan touched her arm and turned her back toward him. "I'm madly in love with you, babe. Come to papa."
She started to laugh. "Come to papa? You're kidding."
"Never." He locked his hand around the back of her neck. "Time for a show."
She had a split second to realize he was going to kiss her, and then his mouth closed down on hers.
It wasn't a sweet, gentle kiss. It wasn't the dark, desperate need of a forbidden night like they'd had before. It was the raw, untamed passion of a man who was thinking about nothing except how long it was going to be until he could get his woman's clothes off.
She knew the kiss was for show, but that didn't lessen its impact on her. Heat exploded within her, wildfire that seemed to burn all the way through her body. His kiss was deep, a sensual seduction designed to shred all her defenses and turn her into helpless mush in his arms. His hand was on her jaw, holding her where he wanted her, staking his claim to her on all levels.
It was dangerous, decadent, intensely sexual, and she loved every second of it. Since it was for show, since they were about to get out of the truck and mingle, and since there was no future in the kiss, it was a safe kiss, one that she could simply lose herself in and bask in every glorious sensation cascading through her body.
Harlan made a low growl in the back of his throat, and then he pulled her closer. The kiss grew deeper, more intense, and she couldn't keep herself back from him. Her arms went around his neck, holding him close. Suddenly, her breasts were against his chest, her nipples tingling where they felt the heat of his body igniting them. His hand moved to her lower back, and when she felt the brush of his palm against her bare skin, electricity seemed to leap between them—
A loud banging on the window made them both jump. "Helloooo!!! You're in public, remember?"
Emma started to laugh even as her cheeks flamed with embarrassment. Harlan pulled
back, and he was grinning, too. Neither of them bothered to look at the window to see who was knocking. They both knew. "Well, if there's a place for the rumors to start, I think we hit the jackpot," he said.
A knock sounded again. "Get out of the truck, newlyweds," Eppie's voice rang out. "Everyone's waiting for you! No one believes that either of you would actually marry anyone, so they're all waiting to see for themselves whether you really did it."
Nervousness rippled through Emma as she looked at Harlan. "Okay, you ready for this?"
He cocked an eyebrow. "To deceive an entire town who wants nothing more than your eternal happiness? Yeah, I'm on it. You good? Can you stand to stare into my eyes and do a little love-sick sighing?"
She giggled at his goofiness. "No one would believe any love-sick sighing from me. When I was with Preston—"
"No." He covered her lips with one finger. "You weren't in love with him. Not the way you are with me. It's different this time. Once you realize that, so will they. You didn't sigh with him. You do with me. That's what real love is, sweetheart. I'm the one for you, and everyone will know it the minute they see how you look at me."
Her mouth dropped open in surprise at his speech. He sounded deadly serious. "I'm not in love with you—"
He cut off her protest with a kiss, a kiss that left no room for coherent thought or rational response. Just like before, emotions and sensations flooded her, and the world around them seemed to vanish. Even Eppie's amused cackle barely registered under Harlan's assault. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, but one that was far too short, he broke the kiss, but kept his lips against hers. "Never, ever again say you don't love me," he said quietly. "From now on, until I leave town, there is no space for any thought in your mind except for how madly in love with me you are."
She swallowed. "I have to remember the truth—"
He kissed her again until she thought her body was going to explode. "You can't afford to remember the truth," he whispered into her mouth. "You were betrayed once, and the town is going to be looking hard for any sign that I'm going to betray you again. Any doubt, any flicker of fear in your eyes, any withdrawal at all by either of us, and they are going to be all over it. And then, when Dottie shows up and starts asking questions, this town is going to take it upon themselves to ensure your future is the one they think you should have. They need to be absolutely convinced that I will protect your heart and keep you safe for the rest of your life or they will not let this happen."
At his words, Emma closed her eyes, her soul aching with yearning for the image he had painted. As terrified as she was of marriage, as resistant as she was to putting herself in another man's control, the idea of having a man who would protect her heart and keep her safe for the rest of her life made her want to cry with longing. The truth was, she didn't want to be alone and brave. She wanted to have someone she could trust. She'd been lying to herself thinking that life alone was what she wanted. "I hate you," she whispered. "Don't make me want things that I can't have."
"You can hate me," he said softly, "as long as you still love me unconditionally. The town has to believe it, and they will be searching for some reason to kick me out of your life onto my ass. You know they will." His breath was warm against her mouth, whispers meant only for her.
"You're right. I know you're right." She'd seen the way the town had tried to protect Clare from Griffin. She'd seen it with Astrid. Even Harlan had tried to stop Jason and Astrid from being together until he was convinced Jason would be good to her. "Okay."
"Good." He smiled, smoothing her hair back from her face. "Which means—" He kissed one corner of her mouth.
"—that you—" He kissed the other corner.
"—are madly—" He kissed her nose.
"—and passionately—" He kissed her forehead.
"—committed to me in your heart—" He placed his hand on her chest.
"—and in your soul." He kissed her full on the mouth, a kiss so tender and beautiful that tears sprang to her eyes.
It was the kiss she'd wanted her whole life. Tender. Gentle. Passionate. Kind. Sensual. Except that it wasn't real. It was acting. It was a lie.
"This is real, Emma. Believe it, or no one else will." Then he threaded his fingers through hers and kissed her until she finally, reluctantly, and wholeheartedly kissed him back.
Chapter Twelve
A deep sense of satisfaction pulsed through Harlan when he felt Emma accept his kiss. It felt so right to feel her relax and lean into him, exactly how it was meant to be. He cupped her throat, loving the feel of her pulse hammering so fast from his kisses. It was incredible the level of satisfaction that thrummed through him as her hand tentatively went to his shoulder, her fingers digging in ever so slightly. She was so tiny in his arms, too delicate, too vulnerable. Instinctively, he palmed her lower back with his hand, needing to support her and hold her as he kissed her.
Her mouth tasted of mint toothpaste with a splash of strawberry. Her lips were decadently soft, her kiss so vulnerable that he wanted to erect a shield to protect her from any more of the crap that life was going to throw at her...including himself.
Instinct made him want to pull back, to cut off the kiss, to distance himself from her, but he knew he couldn't, for all the same reasons he'd outlined to her. Because there was a little girl who needed a break, and she was depending on the two of them to make it happen.
It wasn't until there was more hooting from Eppie that he finally broke the kiss.
Emma stared at him, her cheeks flushed, breathing a little hard. "You are way too good at that," she said.
He grinned. "I practiced on my teddy bear a lot when I was a kid. It's an important life skill for a man to have."
"Well, remind me to come back in my next life as your teddy bear."
He burst out laughing. "I'll remind you."
She smiled, but her cheeks were still flushed. "Thanks."
"Anytime." Harlan saw movement behind Emma, but before he could warn her, Eppie yanked the passenger door open. "Showtime," he whispered to her, just before he glowered at Eppie, who had stuck her head in the front seat with them. "I wasn't finished with her yet," he said.
Eppie beamed at him, her face barely visible beneath all the crystal teardrops hanging off the brim of her yellow straw hat. "Well, you have to share her now." She grabbed Emma's arm. "Come on, girlie. Show off this husband of yours. We all want to see."
Emma shot Harlan a resigned look, and he grinned as she scooted off the seat and out the door. Eppie slammed the door in his face, and he let out his breath as he opened his own door. It had been one thing to boost up Emma and to be focused on her, but as he stepped out of the truck and saw the number of eyes on him, he suddenly wondered whether he really could pull this off.
It wasn't a matter of convincing anyone he was in love with her. That was easy. Emma was one of the most interesting and appealing women he'd ever met. The question was whether he was going to convince anyone that he was the man Emma deserved to marry, especially when he didn't believe it himself.
Then he saw Jackson Reed, one of his few real friends from town, walking toward him, and he stiffened. Jackson knew him well. They'd shared many beers over the years, and he would know Harlan was lying. The small crowd parted as Jackson walked up, his stride easy and relaxed as he headed toward Harlan. Everyone knew that Jackson was the man who knew him best, and they were deferring.
Shit.
Harlan drew his shoulders back as Jackson neared. The other man stopped in front of Harlan, his dark eyes studying him carefully, his Red Sox cap pushed back on his forehead. In typical Jackson fashion, he was wearing jeans, work boots, and a collared plaid shirt, clearly dressing up for the event. "You really did this? Married her?"
Harlan nodded. "Yeah."
Jackson glanced past him at Emma, who was being interviewed by Eppie and a few other women. "She's a nice girl."
"I know."
Jackson looked at him. "She's been through hell.
"
"I know."
"You're a self-proclaimed bastard."
Harlan didn't look away. "I know."
Jackson narrowed his eyes. "So, what changed?"
Harlan knew his friend would smell a lie a thousand miles away, so he gave the truth. "Sunshine."
Jackson raised his brows. "Sunshine? What are you talking about?"
"If I asked you whether Trish was your sunshine, what would you say?"
"Trish, my wife?" Jackson frowned at Harlan's nod. "Hell, yeah, she's my sunshine. She's the light that saves my ass every damn day of my life."
Harlan smiled. "Exactly." He held out his wrist and showed Jackson his tattoo. "I take Emma with me. She gives me hope that my life is worth more than I think it is." Which was the absolute truth. "I never had sunshine before her. Ever."
Jackson stared at the tattoo, then looked at Harlan. "So, this is about you? Not her? You want her because of what she can do for you?"
Harlan had expected the resistance, and he had an answer. "If something made your heart beat, would you do everything in your power to protect it, treasure it, and keep it safe? Would you swear on your own bastard father's grave that you would never, ever, destroy that light or make the flame die?" As he spoke the words, he couldn't help his gaze from wandering over to Emma.
She was laughing now, her eyes sparkling with merriment that made his heart tighten. It was the truth, what he'd said to Jackson. She was his angel, and he would do whatever it took to protect her, including haul his sorry ass out of her life before he could do any damage. "I would do anything for her," he said softly. And for that little girl somewhere, who needed Emma in her life. He couldn't offer the world the kind of sunshine that Emma brought into it, but he could help her and Mattie. He could stop the cycle of hell that was spinning around them both.
Jackson stared at him, and then a broad grin broke out over his face. "Son of a bitch, man. I can't even believe it." He slammed his hand down on Harlan's shoulder, then yanked him forward for a massive bear hug.
Prince Charming Can Wait (Ever After) Page 15