by Alexa Hart
“I don’t know,” He frowns. “Harry’s bringing some. He’s in charge, not me.” He leans over and I can feel the heat of his body. He snaps open the glove compartment. “The contract,” he says as he pulls out a piece of paper. “Read it over and sign.”
I nod. “Sure.”
I look it over and it seems clear. Six months. I stay at their house. I can’t tell anyone the truth. I’m about to sign when I pause at one of the last list items. “I thought we agreed no physical contact?” I ask.
He grunts.
“Then what does no physical relationship unless necessary mean?” I point to the contract.
“That was Harry, not me. He says we can’t mention this is fake to anyone, and that includes Angelo. The fewer people who know this isn’t real the better.”
“I’m not in the habit of telling him my secrets,” I say gruffly. “But that doesn’t explain the physical relationship part.”
He sighs. “If we’re keeping this up as a public charade, we may need to hold hands, hug, and so on...in public. It’s not a big deal. I won’t manhandle you, Princess.”
“Don’t call me princess!” I snap.
“But you give orders like one. Even if you need this deal as much as I do.”
“Fine. But only in public,” I say firmly.
Kane chuckles. “Relax, seriously, you are so not my type.”
“What do you mean not your type?”
“Prissy, stuck up, rigid.” He shakes his head. “Not my style. So you have nothing to worry about.”
“I’m not worried,” I say. “And I am not stuck-up! And believe it or not, since your ego is as big as this city, but you aren’t my type either. I don’t go for violent, aggressive, sexy jerks!”
“Sexy?” He smirks.
“Shut up! You get the idea,” I feel my cheeks redden.
“I get the idea,” he nods. “So just sign the damn thing.”
I fish a pen out of my purse angrily. He can doubt and tease me all he wants, and he may be sexy and seductive as hell, but I’ve seen plenty of bad boys in my day showing up to see Becca, and I’ve watched her cry over every single one when they proved to be jerks. I don’t want a bad boy. My life needs stability, wholeness, safety. Everything this man is so obviously not. No, I just have to pretend for a few months and the bakery is safe and debt-free. Prissy! What does that even mean? Because I said I didn’t jaywalk? I bite my lip and out of the corner of my eye I see Kane’s hands tighten on the steering wheel. I find a pen and quickly sign the contract.
“Done,” I say.
“Great,” Kane says through gritted teeth as he puts the contract back in the glove compartment and snaps it closed. He’s clearly not happy about this whole situation and the silence between us is brutal. I am secretly relieved when Kane turns the radio up, making our silence less obviously awkward. At this rate, the next several months are going to feel like a million years. When we get to the church a middle-aged woman with tight, curly hair escorts me to a little back room where I can change. I unzip the bag and stare at my mother’s dress. It is old-fashioned and modest with a beaded bodice and gauzy cap sleeves. I remember admiring it as a girl and her telling me one day I would wear it at my wedding if I wanted. This isn’t how I imagined the occasion when I would finally get to put it on but with two hours’ notice, it’s the best I could do, and somehow, even though Kane is not at all who I imagined ever marrying, a part of me wants him to see me in it, and I want to feel like my mother isn’t so far away from this strange reality I find myself in. I’ve got the dress on when Maddie bursts in and stops short as she takes me in, in all my bridal glory.
“Summer, you look so beautiful,” she says. She’s wearing a velvet maroon dress and white gloves.
“You look pretty beautiful yourself, Maddie,” I say.
She comes over and hugs me.
“I’m so, so excited you are marrying my dad,” she says. “This is literally like the best news ever!”
“Um,” I hesitate. I thought Kane was going to tell her the truth.
She looks at me and giggles. “Don’t worry. I know everything. But it’s like you’re our roommate for a little while and that means tons of cupcakes and now we’ll outnumber my dad and it is going to be awesome!”
“You aren’t mad?” I ask. “About us lying?”
She shakes her head. “I want to live with my dad. And I want you to teach me how to bake a cake. So to me, it’s all good.”
“That,” I smile, “is true! Now,” I turn around and face the mirror. “Do you think you can help me with these last few buttons,” I reach my hand around to the place near the nape of my neck. “This dress is a two-person job!”
Maddie climbs up on a chair and helps fasten the last few pearl buttons at the top of my back. Harry walks in and clucks his tongue as she finishes. “You look lovely, Summer! Maddie, why don’t you go tell your dad we’re ready to start.”
Maddie nods and heads out of the room. Harry comes over and hands me a bouquet of baby’s breath and white roses. “I’m here to walk you down the aisle if you don’t mind.”
“Sure,” I wrap my hand around his arm and we head toward the sanctuary. I try not to think of my father and how much I miss him at this moment. I try not to think about how scared I am. For someone who never even jaywalks, faking a marriage seems very, very dangerous.
As Harry leads me down the aisle, I keep my eyes down, scared to meet Kane’s gaze, but when I do look up, he isn’t even looking at me, just staring straight ahead as if he’s being tortured into being there. And damn, he looks amazing in a black suit. I nearly trip on my dress, but luckily Harry rights me. There are maybe a dozen people sitting in the church. I glance at Harry and he whispers, “witnesses if we need them. Friends of Kane’s.”
I nod. Standing next to Kane as best man is a handsome, dark-haired man. A young, buxom woman in a sequined dress and bright red lipstick sits in the front row and glares at me as Harry hands me to Kane and Kane takes my hand, helping me up the steps to stand across from him in front of the minister. I feel shaky and scared under the scrutiny of everyone, fake and plain in my mother’s dress. My eyes well up with tears and then, like a small miracle, instead of letting go of my hand, Kane squeezes it gently. I look up and meet his eyes. He’s looking at me now and the look, warm and tortured and sexy as hell threatens to swallow me whole. He gives me a half-smile and a reassuring nod, then turns with me to face the minister. Through the rest of the ceremony, he doesn’t let go of my hand. I know this is probably one of those physical contact for public consumption moments, but for the first time in a long time, I feel safe. But it isn’t until the minister finishes the vows and Kane slips a thin gold band on my hand, and I do the same for him, that I realize what we’ve done.
Kane leans in and kisses me gently but warmly on my lips, his eyes warning me not to misunderstand the moment. But instead, I close my eyes and enjoy the heat of his lips. When I open them, I realize that this may be the most dangerous contract I have ever signed.
Chapter 11
Summer
As if this day couldn’t get any more surprising and confusing, after the ceremony Kane and Maddie take me back to their house, a cute little brownstone in Edison Park. I was expecting a warehouse or some cold, dreary little apartment full of punching bags and leaky pipes, but this house is small and charming. True, when we walk inside it is obvious Kane doesn’t care much for interior design. The place has that odd masculine energy--no photos anywhere and the hardwood floors are bare of rugs and the living room couch empty of accent pillows. Still, it is clean and well-maintained. Maddie eagerly gives me a tour, showing off her most recent art project hanging on the fridge. The first floor is a living room, a small dining room that looks mostly unused, and a kitchen. The upstairs is Maddie’s room, Kane’s room, a bathroom, and thankfully, a little spare room that will surely become mine.
Maddie announces she is starving and Kane orders us all a pizza. He’s seemed angry since the wedding, we
ll, he’s seemed angry since I first threw that cookie tin at him, and I guess he has a right to be. I mean, he didn’t ask for this arrangement any more than me, and he clearly doesn’t like me much and now I’m totally invading his and Maddie’s space. And maybe I am as prissy as he thinks since I expected so little from him and keep being surprised. The gold ring feels heavy and tight on my finger. I’m still in my wedding dress and I excuse myself to change. Kane leads me back up the stairs with my suitcase in hand, but instead of going into the spare room he takes me straight to his bedroom. The room, which I didn’t look in when Maddie gave the tour, is pure male energy. Grey slate sheets and a dark blue blanket crumpled up near the foot of the bed. A few coins and random items, including an unopened condom, are out on the dresser. Everything about the room makes me think of Kane, of what Kane could do to me in that rumpled inviting bed. My stomach flip flops.
“Um,” I back up a step. “I thought I would stay in the spare room.”
Kane shakes his head. “I’m not letting Maddie lie any more than she has to if she gets called to testify at a court hearing,” he puts the suitcase down. “We sleep together.”
“But she knows we aren't ...and the contract…,” I say, almost a whimper. My eyes dart to the bed. I bite my lip and try to remember my imaginary stable and safe boyfriend in Oxford. The man I really want. Not like the jerks who wouldn’t call Becca back after they slept with her, who treated her like dirt. Not...Kane.
“Don’t worry, Princess,” he says. “I don’t have any interest in violating your precious contract. We’ll just sleep. The bed is comfortable. And plenty big.”
“Just ...sleep” I repeat, trying to shake my disappointment at how easily and certainly he stated this. I mean, I had quite a few boys in college want to date me. I’m not exactly hideous, so why does he act like I’m covered in mud? Shouldn’t it be as hard for him to be in bed with me as it is for me to be with him? My attraction is gone, or at least, good and smothered by the hurt and anger I feel. Fine! Great!
He starts toward the door and I kick myself for needing his help when all I want is to kick him until he begs for mercy.
“Wait,” I say.
He turns around.
“I need help with the back of the dress,” I say. I lift my long hair and twist it over my shoulder. “The buttons,” I say. “Please.”
Kane closes the door and comes over to me. I can feel his breath on my neck as he leans down, and his warm fingers graze the back of my neck in a way that makes me sigh. I think he hears it because he lets his fingers linger against my skin while his other hand slowly unfastens the buttons. He lightly traces his fingers down the exposed skin as each button comes undone. He undoes all the buttons down my back so that the dress begins to fall down across my breasts, and I have to hold it up with suddenly trembling hands. When he finishes the last button, his fingers now torturously close to the top of my silk panties, he leans in, whispering in my ear. “All set, Princess?”
I lean back against him and his arms drop and tighten around my own, strong but not painful. His voice, like the rest of him, makes me as weak as I have ever been, but in the best way. I turn my face and our mouths are so close to each other. He’s still angry but I wonder if it matters. If it still wouldn’t be delicious to reach up just a little and let his passion free, and mine too. I bet he kisses a million times better than any Oxford student.
“The contract…” I begin, nearly ready to rip the damn thing up. His eyes flare and his strong arms push me away like he just caught himself about to touch a live wire.
“Don’t worry, Princess. I told you already, I’m not interested.” He says again, cooler this time. “I don’t like your type.”
“My type?” I say, turning around. My arms hold the unbuttoned dress up over my chest. “Why the heck do you keep saying that. I’m not a type!”
“Yeah, you’re the type that says heck instead of hell,” he frowns. “The kind who doesn’t even jaywalk.”
“It’s dangerous,” I say, grumpily.
“The kind that just wants to bring the bad boy home to scare their mommy and daddy.” The mention of parents makes me feel like I’ve been slapped, and as soon as he says it, he looks remorseful. “Summer, I didn’t mean…”
“Don’t ever, ever talk about my parents again,” I say coldly. I’m not really sure why it got to me, except that everything about Kane seems to get to me. “And for the record, they liked everyone, always! No matter how big an asshole they were! That was the type of people they were.”
Kane stares at me. “I am an asshole,” he says.
“Finally, we agree on something!” I say.
“And I’m sorry.” His voice is so soft, and kind, that I look up and meet his eyes. They are gentler than they have been. He looks truly pained by what he said. “I’m used to being ...too rough when it comes to protecting Maddie. This whole thing is hard for me.”
“It’s okay,” I whisper again. Our eyes are still on each other. I’m still basically holding the wedding dress up above my chest so it doesn’t fall off my body and I wonder even then if I should let it. Kane is looking at me with such tenderness, I start to let the dress slip but he growls at me.
“Don’t,” he orders.
I freeze, my blood going from hot to cold with his command.
From downstairs, the doorbell rings and thankfully shatters the moment. Maddie calls up the stairs, “pizza’s here, Dad!”
Kane breaks his impenetrable stare and I wobble just a little, but hopefully not in any way he can notice.
“Get dressed and come down when you’re ready,” he says, his voice detached. And just like that, he’s out the door. I sit down on the bed, still holding the dress up to cover my chest. Did I really just kind of throw myself at him and did he really shoot me down? Sure, he’s sexy as hell and probably is used to having women lose their minds around him. Women a lot more experienced and a lot less emotional than me. I reach for a pillow and cover my face with embarrassment. I bet he’s laughing right now at how all he did was press a few fingers against my back and apologize for being a jerk and I was ready to lay down in his bed like a love-starved virgin, which, I sigh, I guess I am. Just a married virgin and probably the only married woman in the world who isn’t losing her virginity on her wedding night to her super sexy husband. I get dressed in jeans and my frumpiest sweatshirt before I head downstairs. Maybe if I don’t feel sexy, I’ll stop thinking so much about sex.
At the dining room table, Kane looks indifferent. Like frumpy or sexy he doesn’t see me at all unless he wants to. Well, fine, I feel my neck bristle as we eat our pizza and Maddie chatters on happily, I don’t care. Two can play this game of not wanting the other. I vow not to forget myself around him again. There will be no more mistakes like earlier. Ever.
After dinner, Maddie asks me to get her ready for bed and read her a book. I look at Kane and he nods curtly. I take Maddie’s hand and she leads me up to her room where we spend an inordinate amount of time deciding between her pink unicorn pajamas or her purple unicorn ones. We settle on purple. She’s got a bookshelf full of good books, some of my favorites, and I am once again sent spiraling into confusion as to how the same man who smashed up my uncle’s bakery and just rejected me so thoroughly can also have taken the time and love to make sure Maddie has all this. He’s like two different people, but who is he really? I remind myself that even monsters have soft spots for the ones they love, and he’s likely more the brute who makes a living terrorizing people than the gentle giant who buys his daughter The Secret Garden, which is the book we settle on for the night. By chapter three she is fast asleep and I turn off the small pink lamp near her bed and run a hand over her face, moving the hair from her eyes. Looking at her then, so peaceful and innocent, I can see why even a brute could be tamed by such a sweet child.
As I tiptoe out of the room, I head towards the spare room, hoping I can avoid Kane. If Kane doesn’t want Maddie to have to lie about us staying in separa
te rooms then I’ll just go to bed after Maddie and wake up before her. She’ll never know and I won’t risk humiliation again by being so weak-willed in the presence of Kane’s muscular body and handsome scowl. As I open the door to the spare room though, Kane pops his head out of his own bedroom and stares at me. He is shirtless and wearing only sweatpants that hang a little loose at his hips, revealing a perfect six-pack shadowed beneath his tattoos. I have never before in my life wanted more to trace my hand against black ink. Shoot!
“What do you think you are doing?” he asks.
“I….”
He shakes his head. “You sleep in here. With me.”
I nod and shuffle past him into the bedroom. “Can I...uh...borrow some PJs?” I say.
He arches his eyebrows. “What about the little lace item you graced me with last night at the bakery?”
“They were given to me as a joke. A very bad joke from my best friend.”
“There wasn’t anything funny about that outfit,” he replies.
I blush. He walks over to his dresser and pulls out a black t-shirt. He tosses it at me.
“What about some pants?” I question.
He shakes his head. “It’s hot in here at night. I don’t need you sweating next to me. You’ll be fine in that.”
“Uh, okay,” I say. He turns off the lights and climbs into the bed. I change quietly and shyly in the corner. Even though it is pitch black I can feel his eyes on me and I know I could change in the bathroom, but I like his eyes on me.
I climb into the bed and am careful to stay on my side. I set my glasses down on the bedside table and I feel him shift next to me and under the blanket I can feel his warmth so tantalizingly close. I think about running my hands across his chest, and then lower, maybe even slipping them under the waistband of his low-hanging, tantalizingly nearby sweatpants. I squeeze my legs and turn away from him.
“Goodnight, Princess,” he growls as if he read my thoughts and isn’t pleased.