The Marriage Contract

by Rose Wulf

  Ophelia felt her tongue falter in her mouth for a moment before she finally nodded. “That’s fine.” She rattled off her number and he typed it in to his phone. Her chest tightened uncomfortably but she kept quiet.

  “There you go,” Keith declared a moment later. He smiled at them both. “Call anytime, ladies.”

  Ophelia’s phone buzzed in her purse. His text, no doubt. She and her grandmother thanked him one more time before making their way back to Ophelia’s car. They climbed in, and only once both doors were shut and her keys were in the ignition did Ophelia quietly say, “Your phone’s not dead, is it?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Yvette said. “I didn’t look.”

  “Grandma.”

  “What? You’ve been so helpful,” her grandmother said.

  Ophelia started the car and checked for traffic. “That wouldn’t preclude you from taking the number.”

  “Ophelia, please,” Yvette started, “he’s too young for me.”

  Ophelia drew a breath to calm herself as she navigated toward the necessary intersection. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

  “He’s handsome, though,” Yvette continued. “And he seemed nice.”

  She gripped the steering wheel tight. “He did seem nice,” she allowed, refusing to comment on whether or not she found Keith’s dirty blond hair and brown eyes to be handsome. “That hardly matters.”

  Grandma made a sound that always meant she disagreed and began rooting through her purse. “Oh! Look, it’s not dead after all.”

  Chapter Three

  “I’ve got a great idea,” Kipp declared as he stepped up beside Batson at the end of the workday.

  Batson arched a brow and offered his friend an acknowledging glance as he continued toward his truck. The sun hadn’t quite started to set yet and with the run of nicer weather, the house Crosse Construction had been contracted to build was coming along pretty quickly. That was good. Not just from a business perspective, but also because it was satisfying to put his hands to use and do something that would be beneficial to someone else. Pulling his keys from his pocket, Batson took the bait and asked, “Idea for what?”

  Kipp grinned far too wide. “So, last year a buddy of mine threw himself like a small bachelor party for his birthday. He was single, definitely not getting married, but I mean he went all out.”

  Batson did not at all like where this was going. Why the hell was Kipp so obsessed?

  “Pizza, alcohol, strippers.” Kipp shifted out of the way so Batson could put his tools in the back of his truck.

  Batson sneered. “How the hell is that going ‘all out’ to you? Ain’t there supposed to be more to it?”

  “Hell if I know,” Kipp admitted. “The point is, there were hot, almost naked ladies all over the place. I got a free lap dance!”

  Biting back a groan, Batson shook his head. “Awesome. Why do I care?”

  Kipp bumped Batson’s arm with the side of his fist. “I was thinking we could do something like that for your birthday!”

  Shit. That was exactly what he’d been afraid the idiot would say. All Kipp could ever think about was women. “No.”

  “Come on, Batson,” Kipp said. “When was the last time you got laid? Seriously, I can’t remember the last time I saw you with a woman. You need to loosen up, have a little fun.”

  Batson cut a sharp glare at his so-called friend. “It’s not fucking happening. You want a damn stripper party, throw one yourself.”

  “I don’t know if I have the nerve to do something like that,” Kipp said. “It’d have to be for a friend. But it’s harmless fun, man. It’s not like you’d be obligated to do anything.”

  “My stupid birthday, my choice,” Batson returned. He stepped back and slammed his tailgate into place.

  “I can’t believe you!”

  The sudden female outburst startled Batson enough to pierce his irritation and he glanced over to Kipp, who was as obviously confused as he felt. The pair turned toward the voice in time to see a woman about their age, with brown hair just past her shoulders and a telltale bright pink braid down the side, shove away the arm of the man standing beside her.

  Shit. That was Lia’s best friend, Alice. Was he supposed to do something here? Or pretend he hadn’t seen anything and drive off?

  “Just go,” Alice snapped, turning her back on the man. “Leave me alone!”

  “Ouch,” Kipp mumbled.

  Batson grunted and averted his attention. The least he should do was not be caught watching. “It’s not our business.” Even as the words left his mouth, he suspected they’d fallen on deaf ears. He could hear Alice crying, which meant Kipp could, too. He’d be amazed if Kipp didn’t say something.

  As Alice’s footsteps drew closer, Kipp moved away from the truck and said, “Hey, ah, are you okay?”

  There it is. Batson stayed beside his truck, feeling uncharacteristically awkward.

  Alice’s steps slowed then stopped. In his peripheral vision, Batson saw her turn her head. “I’m … fine. I guess.” She sniffled audibly. “I just broke up with my stupid, cheating boyfriend is all.”

  “I’m sorry,” Kipp said. “I thought maybe … that guy had been bothering you or something.” There was a pause and Batson glanced back in time to see Kipp scratching his neck. “Then you were crying, and I thought it wouldn’t be right if I didn’t check.”

  Batson fought the urge to bang his head on the hood of his truck. Kipp and his goddamned damsel complex.

  “Thanks, then,” Alice said slowly. “Wait.” The pause in her voice made the hairs on Batson’s neck rise but he refused to look their way. “You’re Batson.”

  “Huh? You know each other?” Kipp asked.

  Shit. Batson made a show of rolling his head around, as if he’d been tuning them out, and tucked his hands into his worn denim pockets. “Yeah. So?”

  Alice stepped closer, attention solely focused on him now. “This is great! I need you to take me home.”

  Kipp nearly fell off the curb, his red eyes going wide and jaw falling open in shock so blatantly Batson actually wanted to laugh. Briefly.

  That amusement vanished after a second and Batson scowled. “No.”

  “Oh, come on!” Alice begged, wiping her face on her long sleeve.

  He pushed off from his truck. “Take yourself home.”

  “Batson,” Kipp said, apparently on Team Alice.

  “What? No,” Alice said, talking over Kipp. “I don’t mean it that way. I mean take me home with you.”

  “What?” Kipp exclaimed incredulously.

  The fuck? Had the woman lost her damn mind? Batson narrowed his eyes at her. “Why the hell would I do that?” She opened her mouth and he jerked his hand up, palm out, silencing her. “Rhetorical question. I don’t bring home random women.”

  “Ew, pervert,” Alice returned, scrunching up her face. “I just need a ride to your place. Well, not really your place. Your neighbor, Ophelia? She’s my best friend. I want to go there.”

  Since he couldn’t admit he’d actually guessed as much, he kept his glare and said, “Then drive yourself.”

  “I can’t!” Alice declared, exasperated. She threw her arms to her sides in a huff. “I was with my lousy boyfriend! We took his car!” More tears piled up in her eyes. “My place is practically across town from here! It’ll be dark before I get there if I walk! I just want to see my friend!”

  Goddammit. Giving in to her request was only going to open the door for more difficult situations in the future.

  “Come on, Batson,” Kipp said, stepping in again with an imploring stare. “You’re literally going there anyway. Where’s the harm?”

  Batson ground his teeth. Lia would be pissed if he abandoned her best friend on the side of the road. “Fucking fine, get in.” He unlocked his truck and walked around to the driver’s side.

  “Jeez,” Alice mumbled, “your driveways are separated by a tiny row of weeds, it’s not like it’s out of your way.”
<
br />   “Ignore him,” Kipp said, moving forward quickly and opening the passenger door for her. “He’s always like this. It’s his default disposition.”

  “Yeah, that’s about what I remember from school,” she said.

  Batson slammed his door shut and reached for his seat belt.

  “Well,” Alice started, suddenly sounding self-conscious, “thanks, uh…?”

  “Kipp. I’m Kipp.”

  Alice introduced herself in turn and finally shut the door. She didn’t say anything as she buckled herself in.

  Batson cranked the engine over, checked his mirrors, and swung onto the road. They were nearly a mile from the construction site before he said, “This is a one-time thing, got that? If I wanted to drive people around, I’d work for Uber.”

  “Trust me,” she said, “I don’t plan on making a habit of this.” She folded her arms around her purse, holding it in her lap. “It’s not like I was waiting for you or something. Heck, the only thing I really know about you is that you were a jerk in high school.” A beat later, she added, “By reputation, at least, I don’t think we ever interacted.”

  “Tch.” Batson switched into the necessary lane. “If you’re gonna insult me while I’m doin’ you a favor, at least commit to it.”

  She drew a breath as if she were offended, but after a second, she settled and quietly said, “I’m sorry. You are doing me a favor. Thank you.”

  He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “Whatever.” Sometimes he couldn’t tell which parts of his behavior were authentic and which were an act anymore. He could be himself at work, and with Kipp—most of the time—but here he felt like he had to be careful. As a result, he was probably being harsher than necessary. This was just one of those situations that, while it had happened authentically, bordered the line of the lie. He had no damn clue how to handle it. How was he supposed to have anticipated he’d wind up playing chauffeur to Lia’s friend?

  “Anyway,” Alice said with obviously strained lightness, “tell me about you. Are you single?”

  Batson twitched, nearly jerking the wheel in the process. “What?” The fuck?

  “It’s not that hard,” she said. “Are you single? As in, do you have a girlfriend? Or, you know, a boyfriend? A lover? A special person?”

  “I fucking know what it means,” he snapped irritably. Possibly a little more sharply than was warranted—from her perspective. “I meant why the hell do you give a shit?”

  “Well,” she said, drawing the word out in a way that reminded him annoyingly of Kipp. “How well do you know Ophelia?”

  He balked, his temper and his temperature spiking. One, at least, he dragged back under control with a long breath through his nose. “Not well,” he lied. “Why?” Though he could guess. Was everyone this obsessed with setting him up with someone? And how had he managed to land himself in a small space with a woman who suddenly seemed to want to set him up with Lia? He nearly choked at the effort not to snort at the absurdity.

  “I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” Alice said, “but she’s rather attractive. Very smart, not overly dramatic.” He didn’t have to look to know she grinned at the next part. “Very single.”

  Not. “Are you seriously trying to set me up with my neighbor?”

  “Think of how convenient it’d be,” she said with a strange giggle. “And obviously, you could use a woman’s touch.”

  “What the shit’s that supposed to mean?” He cut a short, pointed glare at her. “Have you considered your bestie might not appreciate you tryin’ to hook her up with a ‘jerk’ like me?”

  Alice sighed dramatically as Batson finally turned onto his street. “She might not, it’s true. But she needs a man in her life. I mean, she needs … she needs someone around, you know?” Her head turned toward the window and her voice softened. “We all do.”

  Batson released a slow, careful breath. That much, at least, he understood. He also understood that Alice didn’t know the truth. Understanding didn’t make it less aggravating. He chose to say nothing as he swung into his drive, relieved at the sight of Lia’s car in her side of the driveway. At least he wouldn’t have to play host.

  “Oh good, she’s home,” Alice mumbled.

  “What, you thought she wouldn’t be?” He made sure to add a believable amount of shock and irritation.

  Alice offered him a shrug as the truck came to a stop. “I momentarily forgot it’s her day off. She might have been running errands. She’s definitely not expecting me.” She looked away and he suddenly remembered why Alice was in his truck in the first place. “I’m supposed to be packing for a weekend getaway with my … ex-boyfriend right now.”

  Batson tugged his keys from the ignition with a scowl. “Be glad you didn’t waste your weekend on that piece of shit,” he said. He popped his door open and stepped from the truck without another word. It took her a couple of seconds to follow suit.

  “Um, Batson,” Alice said, walking around to stand parallel with the grill of the truck. She’d slipped her purse onto her shoulder and held the straps with both hands. “Thank you.” She smiled too big and added, “You should really knock on Ophelia’s door sometime, though. You might not be too bad, and she could use a little wild.” Before he could do more than glare at her, she turned, waved, and hopped over the ankle-high shrub that passed as a barrier between the driveways. “Bye!”

  Growling under his breath, Batson grabbed his tools from his truck bed and headed inside. He pretended not to listen when Lia opened her door and raised her voice in surprise at the sight of her friend on her doorstep. It was the weekend, essentially, maybe he’d pack an overnight bag and drive out to the mountains. Somewhere remote, where he wouldn’t need to worry about observers and he could be himself. Well, as long as he was careful not to start a forest fire.

  He glanced at the wall that separated him from his wife. Sometimes, he could talk her into meeting him out in the great, wide nowhere. Away from the city and prying eyes, it was one of the few places they could be together without an excuse. Given the circumstances he’d literally just dropped at her feet, though, he doubted this would be one of those times.

  It was just as well.

  ****

  Ophelia handed Alice the refilled cup of hot cocoa and reclaimed her spot beside her friend on the sofa. She’d been completely surprised when Alice had knocked on her door, and was still in shock over the fact that Batson was the one who’d driven her. I have to thank him later.

  “Ugh,” Alice said after her first sip. “I’m so pathetic. I shouldn’t cry over that loser.”

  Ophelia smoothed a hand over Alice’s hair in an effort to soothe her. “We can’t always help what makes us cry,” she said. “Besides, you’re not crying over him. You’re crying over the loss of something that made you happy.”

  Alice snorted. “But it was a lie.” Her voice cracked on lie and she took another sip of the chocolate.

  “Even so,” Ophelia said. “Learning that truth hurts, and pain makes people cry, right?”

  Alice lowered the cup a little and looked over at her. “You’re the best friend ever, you know that?”

  Ophelia laughed and waved vaguely. “Oh, gosh, I am not! I’m just doing what any good friend would do.”

  “Well, you are a good friend,” Alice said, bumping her shoulder against Ophelia. “I know I dumped myself on you. Thanks for being here.”

  Ophelia wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pressed her temple into Alice’s. “Always.”

  They sat in silence for a few more minutes, Alice sipping at her drink, until she drew a large breath and said, “I need a distraction. Let’s talk about you. Tell me you had a better day than me.”

  That much, at least, Ophelia imagined she had. No matter the awkwardness her grandmother had tried putting her through. Obliging her friend, Ophelia straightened and told her, more or less, about her day with her grandmother.

  Alice gaped at her. “Grandma Yvette’s moving to town? That’s shocki
ng.”

  “I thought so,” Ophelia agreed. “But she doesn’t really have anyone close to her, so maybe it’s a good idea.”

  “True.” Alice drained the last of her cocoa and set the cup onto the table. “You’ll get to see her more, at least. That’s a plus, right?”

  Ophelia smiled. She hoped it would be. “I think so.”

  Alice’s smile turned mischievous and she moved on. “Now tell me about this man Grandma Yvette’s setting you up with.”

  “No,” Ophelia said, rearing back on reflex and wagging a finger at her. “Not you, too!”

  “Yes, me, too!” Alice returned. She caught Ophelia’s wrist and tugged it down to trap her gaze. “Girl, you need a man. If you like this Keith guy, I’m all for it. So, tell me about him. Is he good-looking?”

  Groaning, Ophelia reflected on Keith’s appearance in the interest of humoring her friend. “I guess,” she said carefully. “His hair’s a little long for my tastes, though.”

  Alice tapped her chin. “How long? Like, Momoa long? Was he rocking a man-bun?”

  “Gods, no!” Ophelia exclaimed with a laugh. “Nowhere near that! It was more, like … neck-length? Is that a thing?” That was her estimate, anyway. He’d had it pulled back neatly, but the ponytail had been more of a stub over what hadn’t been up. The style did suit his facial structure, it just didn’t appeal to her. She shrugged. “He had it pulled back a bit. Don’t get me wrong, it didn’t look bad.”

  “Okay,” Alice said. “So he could use a little touching up. Hair’s cosmetic. Aside from that, he’s handsome? Hot?”

  “Alice.”

  “Come on, give me something,” Alice pleaded.

  Ophelia sighed. “Handsome, I would say. It helped that he’d dressed up a little nice, probably because he was trying to sell us something.”

  Alice grinned. “That does tend to help.” She scooped up her mug and stood, making her way around to the kitchen. “Okay, how was his height?”

  “Is this necessary?”

  “Very.”

  Biting back another sigh, Ophelia paused. He was probably about Batson’s height, wasn’t he? “Umm, I don’t know, it was good? I didn’t ask.”