by Jean Oram
“Because you move from woman to woman?” She shifted, jutting out a hip. “Don’t give me that hurt look. See it from my perspective. I married a man who doesn’t commit. This is my life. My reputation. I’m not the kind of woman who…” She blinked hard.
“Okay,” he said gently, understanding that she was upset with appearances in regards to their marriage. “I’ll do my utmost to keep it secret. We’ll stay together until I can pitch to Tiffer. I’ll help you with your company. We’ll both reach our goals.”
He pulled out the agreement he’d had his lawyer do up on the off chance Jill decided to work with him rather than divorce him.
“What are you doing? I didn’t say yes.”
“I want you to read this,” he said, “and amend it so the terms work for you.” With slow, measured moves, he slid the paper to the edge of the desk.
Jill’s shoulders dropped a notch, and she tentatively took the stapled document. She flipped to the second page, her bright eyes flicking over the paragraphs of text.
“It’s a package. Contract and marriage. You get your loan paid off faster than you’d planned, get free marketing and a partnership with a strong company with reach. You boost my product diversity and store’s profits, while I also get to prove to Tiffer that I’m a stable human being worthy of receiving his agency’s global marketing contract. We both win.”
Jill was considering his words, a frown in place. “I have a full-time job.”
“I promise to support you in whatever way you and your business need.”
She watched him for a long time. Finally, she nodded.
“Okay?” He felt his spirits lift. “You’ll sign?”
“Let’s grow my business and hopefully save yours.”
“Our partnership will provide a—”
He didn’t get to finish his spiel before Jill interrupted, saying, “Do whatever business mumbo jumbo you need to do to make your life better again, then step back out of mine.”
“First chance to leave, and you’re already looking forward to it.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” she challenged, hand on her hip, the dare in her eyes waking a fire within him.
“Because you need a man like me.” What was he doing? He had her ready to help him and he felt the need to make a point? For what? To make her look at him with that spark of interest most women shot his way?
Why did he have to keep reminding himself that this was not personal?
It had to be that fitted red sweater messing with his mind and bringing up memories from their wedding night.
“Don’t act so full of yourself,” she said, her voice level. She scooted her chair to his desk, grabbed a pen and began scratching things on page three, initialing her modifications. He craned his neck to see what she’d changed.
It was something he could live with.
Her scent was sweet, like strawberry ice cream.
She looked up, pointing the pen at him. “When I mean don’t tell anyone we’re married that also includes my family. Everyone. And tell your aunt not to mention it to a soul.” She continued working on the document. “And don’t take over my business. You get a say, and can be helpful, but I make all the big decisions. I’m the one in control.”
She scrawled a few extra terms at the bottom, and was about to sign when Burke stopped her.
“We need a notary.”
“Oh.”
“My assistant is one.” He texted Gulliver, who was likely still in the staff room.
Within moments Gully came marching in. “Everything all right? You said you needed me.” He caught Jill’s tense expression and gave Burke a scowl. “Do I need to put laxative in your coffee? You’ve obviously upset this nice woman.” He shot Jill a supportive look of sympathy.
Traitor.
Jill let out a soft huff of laughter as Burke grumbled, “We need a notary.”
“Are you signing under duress?” Gulliver asked, looking at her over his shoulder as Burke inked his name onto the documents.
Jill giggled in surprise. “No.”
“Good.”
She signed as well, then Gulliver completed the papers with a flourish. As he backed toward the door, he made a fist, extending his thumb and pinkie to represent a phone, and held it to his ear while saying to Jill, “If you need anything, sweetie, you just give me a call.”
“Remember who signs your paychecks,” Burke said, before his assistant disappeared, contract in hand.
Burke let out a long sigh of relief. It was over. He’d done it.
Now the real work began.
Done. She’d done it. Jill had agreed to stay married to Burke for another two months. She could do that, right? She’d get a friendship center out of it, thanks to a quick boost in sales. He’d get a deal.
Easy. He lived hours away and her family would never need to know about the accidental marriage.
“Just out of curiosity,” she asked, as they moved toward his office door, “why do you think I need a man like you?”
“To fix your business,” he said quickly.
“And?” She hated that she was fishing, hoping that there was a more personal reason.
“You want me to tell you that your sweater is enough to give a man a heart attack, and that every time you fight with me I forget who I am? I should avoid you, but instead I can’t stop thinking about you.”
Jill felt shaky inside, thanks to the intensity in his gaze. “I agreed to stay married. You don’t need to start making things up to try and flatter me.”
“It’s not a lie.” He was standing so close the air grew still around them. She’d shifted without noticing, their lips merely inches apart.
He gently took her by the waist. “I want to make you smile and let go.” He eyed her face, ensuring she wasn’t about to slug him, then took advantage of her indecision by pressing his mouth to hers. Her fists landed gently against his collarbone without vindication as their kiss deepened, their bodies softening as they got caught up in each other.
He broke the kiss. “You need spontaneity, fewer plans.” He angled his head to kiss her again, but she stepped back just as she heard a loud gasp that sounded too feminine to be his. Jill looked to the door to find a gorgeous, midtwenties Latino woman glaring at them.
“Burke!” the woman scolded.
He jumped away from Jill, hands lifted in the air like someone accused.
The woman came roaring in, her mouth moving fast as she swore at him in both English and Spanish.
“Autumn,” Burke protested, “What are you doing here?”
“I came to tell you I won’t be shaken off.” She staggered on her high heels as if she’d had too much to drink. “You can run, you can hide, you can be hurtful and aloof, but I know the truth about you. You’re capable of love—you have a kitten! If that’s not a cry for love, then I don’t know what is! I am not going to let you run after the next skirt that comes along because you’re afraid of what we have. We have a connection, Burke. You and I are meant to be.”
“Autumn, we are not meant to be,” Burke said patiently.
Jill made her way to the door, sidestepping quietly, hoping to escape unnoticed.
This was exactly what she’d been talking about when it came to their marriage. A big mess. And she’d just been wooed into signing on for more. What was it about Burke Carver that made her unable to side with reason?
Just as she reached the door, Autumn beat her there, her large dark eyes locked onto Jill’s. “This one’s mine. My daddy’s a very powerful man, so don’t even think about sneaking around with him behind my back or I’ll make you sorry.”
“Excuse me? Are you threatening me?” Jill asked. Her competitive edge reared up and she barely bit down in time before she told Autumn to back off because he was her husband.
“Come on, Autumn, I think you’ve had a bit too much to drink at the country club this afternoon,” Burke said, stepping between them. “Let’s get you a ride home and maybe something to eat.”
Autumn whirled on him. “I know what you’re trying to do. Sweep me off to my daddy so you can be together. He doesn’t love me and now neither do you.” She let out a wail as Burke shuffled her over the room’s threshold. She whirled, stepping back into the room. She pointed at Jill. “You’re not even that pretty!”
She shook off Burke and left, and Jill called halfheartedly after her, “At least I’m not a spoiled brat!”
Gulliver stuck his head in the door the second after Autumn stormed off. “Well, that should get interesting. Do you need me to send her a—”
“Not now.” Burke rushed past Gulliver in pursuit of the tipsy socialite, who, by the sounds of it, had just cleared everything off Gulliver’s desk outside Burke’s office.
“Tomorrow? When she’s had a chance to cool down?” Gulliver called. “Good plan.”
“Was that the governor’s daughter?” Jill squeaked, already knowing the answer.
Gulliver nodded. “For the record, I’ve never offered to put a laxative in my boss’s coffee for her.” And then he was off.
Jill stood in the suddenly quiet office, gathering herself. Autumn was going to make Burke pay, meaning things were going to get complicated. Jill stared at Burke’s desk where she’d just signed the contract.
Could she find it, rip it up, and escape this giant mess before it completely unearthed itself? Legally, wasn’t there a five-minute back-out clause where if you changed your mind within five minutes of signing the contract became null?
She didn’t think so. Which meant she was stuck with it.
But why had Burke run after Autumn? Was he just being a nice guy or were they actually involved? Was that why he’d agreed to not tell anyone about the marriage?
And if so, why did that hurt?
Jill heard voices outside the office and the ticking of a bicycle’s pedals as someone pushed one past the open door. She slipped out of the office. Gulliver was whispering with someone while picking up his desk items that had been strewn across the floor by Autumn, and Jill hurried past, gaze averted. Within moments she was racing down the stairs she’d come up just two weeks ago with Burke.
She should have asked more questions before signing. Should have paused to think. She’d felt a strange sense of obligation and responsibility for Burke, his employees and the business, and as a result had thrown her own plans out the window. Now she was staying married to a man with a woman on the side. There was no way this would remain secret—just like he’d warned.
Her shoes slipped on the last step and she grabbed the railing, narrowly avoiding cracking her head on the concrete steps. She righted herself and pushed open the emergency exit door, gulping in the cold March air. She needed the privacy of her car. She needed to get away from the city so she could think.
To her left, just outside the office building’s tall glass doors, she heard Autumn shouting at Burke, and saw him reach for her while she flagged down a passing cab.
When would Jill ever learn? Burke made her head a mess and she did stupid things without thinking through all the possible implications. She was ready to rip his throat out one moment, then ready to flip up her skirt for him the next.
Not cool.
Burke Carver.
Hot. Irresistible.
And a big, pushy you-know-what who thought he could sweet-talk his way into getting what he wanted from women. She’d tossed out her plan for him. Her quite possibly two-timing husband.
A giant, painful bubble formed in her lungs, making it difficult to swallow, breathe.
She got in her car and dropped the keys while trying to fit them into the ignition, and fought the need to cry. She snatched them off the floor and tried again, shoving them into the slot. The car started as her cell rang. Despite knowing better, she picked it up.
“Where are you?” Burke demanded immediately.
“I have a date,” she said primly.
“You’re married.”
“So are you!”
“Autumn and I aren’t a thing.”
“She obviously didn’t get the text message. Or was it an email? Candy gram via your well-trained assistant? You misrepresented yourself.”
“We still have things to discuss.”
“I’m busy. Maybe next time if you want to talk you can hold off kissing me, and tell your girlfriend to stay home.” Jill hung up, then stared at her phone in shock. She felt panicked.
She needed to work with him, stay civil. But he made her lose control, forget herself. He made her feel alive, wanted, and it made her crazy in the head.
But it wasn’t real. It never would be. She was just a business problem he wanted to have go away, and he was willing to say whatever he needed to in order to make that happen.
Her phone rang and she answered, snapping, “What is it about you that makes me feel and act like a crazy woman?”
There was silence before Burke said quietly, “Cancel your date.”
“No.”
There was no date. That had been a lie to give her space, to make him back off, to feel that maybe she wasn’t as easy as he believed.
Even though it felt as though she was.
“Are you free tomorrow?”
“I’ll have to check my calendar.”
“Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“We’re business partners. Don’t play hard to get.”
“It’s called giving you the cold shoulder so you’ll take the hint and leave me alone so I don’t have to drop a piano on your head.” She turned off her SUV, fuming. “How long until she tells the world? How long until…”
She gulped as her throat tightened.
She should have divorced Burke and moved on. How long until she heard the odd rumbling about her having a secret husband, despite swearing Wini to silence? How long until she was avoiding text messages and ditching half-eaten brownies in Mandy’s little café when she saw the gossips heading her way?
She didn’t want to deal with the embarrassing fallout of her drunken actions. She just wanted it all to go away.
“Autumn won’t talk.”
“She’s going to blab.” Most people would fear the embarrassment, but Autumn was different. She wouldn’t sit in the dark, licking her wounds. No, she craved attention and would milk this situation for all it was worth.
“Then we’ll take the wind out of her sails,” Burke said decisively. “We’ll…spin it. Turn it into a way to promote our businesses. We’ll tell your family and friends. But I won’t play doting husband,” he warned. “I don’t do kissy commitment stuff.”
“We’re not telling anyone.”
“It’s still best to work together.”
“I haven’t gone back on my word—or the contract.”
“Where are you? Is that your car down the street?”
In the distance she could see him through her rearview mirror, standing on the sidewalk, craning his neck, searching for her.
“I’ve got to go.”
She hung up and pulled away before he could catch up and convince her to do something rash, such as tell the world she’d married him in secret months and months ago.
Then forgotten about it.
With her heart beating fast enough to rival the RPMs in her SUV’s engine, she tore home, realizing the truth. If they were going to have a chance with Tiffer, they were going to have to publicly reveal their secret.
They were going to have to own it.
6
Burke stretched as he got out of his compact hybrid car and took in the gas-guzzling pickup trucks lining Main Street in Blueberry Springs. Most of them were so big his car could ride in their back.
There was more snow here than in the city and he moved through the slushy stuff as he enjoyed the sunshine, heading toward the Wrap It Up sandwich shop where Jill had requested he meet her. It was in an old, narrow brick building that had been revitalized, giving it a new lease on life. The place had character and charm
and he liked it and the owner already. Especially if she was responsible for the amazing chocolaty aroma wafting onto the street.
A few hikers decked out in renewable hemp and bamboo hiking pants walked past, laughing and chatting, thumbs hooked under their backpacks’ shoulder straps. His wandering gaze caught the looming mountains, the trees arching over the street. The town had a beauty and uniqueness that he could get used to.
He reached for the glass door, but before he could push it open a swell of apprehension washed over him. Inside, waiting, was his wife.
Wife.
He exhaled slowly. He had thought he’d never call anyone by that title ever again.
He pushed his way through the door.
It would all work out. He’d been through worse. And he’d told Jill he wasn’t going to act like a real husband. He was here in town to beat everyone to the punch as part of his and Jill’s plan to head off the inevitable Autumn fallout. He’d allow everyone to put a face to his title as Jill’s husband, then move on with business.
They would have a modern marriage or whatever she’d called it when she’d phoned him late in the night. Not open or casual, but not live-together, happily ever after, either.
But now, being here, looking for her among those having coffee in the packed little place, it all felt a bit too close, too real.
Burke scanned the tables, spotting Jill sitting toward the back, her fingers running through her dark ponytail like a comb, her eyes cast downward. As he approached, he discovered she was fully absorbed by her e-reader.
He slipped into the chair across from her, asking, “What are you reading?”
She flipped the screen toward her chest, hiding it. “Nothing.”
“Erotica?”
“Just a sweet romance, thank you very much.” She held the device closer.
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why?” She narrowed her eyes.
“You believe in that stuff?” He pointed to her e-reader. His aunt Maggie loved romances and read at least one a week. He kind of figured it was her way of vicariously having what he’d denied her—the opportunity to marry the man she’d loved. “True love and happy endings for everyone?”