by Jean Oram
“A fake marriage,” he said quietly. He looked doubtful, not relieved like she’d hoped.
She dropped her hands on her hips, putting her best glare to use. “Yes. It doesn’t have to be a crime, you know.” She could see what he was thinking—that he was likely worrying about the legalities. “We’re the good guys, two friends who like each other and want to help each other and who might go on dates sometimes, right?”
“Dates?” The corner of his lips turned up.
“Why not? You’re cute. I’m cute. That can’t be illegal. Besides, the government does worse than a marriage of convenience all the time—why would they even bother with us? We’re doing a good thing here, relieving the burden on the system, with you helping Annabelle and encouraging her to be gainfully employed and a contributing member of society. If you leave, I’m certain it will cost the country more than if you stay—and staying brings in income tax, too. Right? The country comes out ahead and they can’t prove whether we love each other or not.
“And anyway, the government is more worried about overtaxing my business because it’s a nonessential service, even though my store brings people into town who then shop in other stores and eat in restaurants. You’d think the mayor would understand that he’s killing us all with taxation. And don’t even get me started on health care, child support and federal—”
“You have a child?”
Whoops. She’d kind of gone on a rant by accident.
She shook off her outrage and indignation.
“No kids, but I was one.” Her father had totally shirked helping her mom financially, and the government hadn’t been especially helpful with rounding up child support.
Not that she now wanted to stick it to the government as some form of delayed retribution, but in the grand scheme of things her marrying a man she’d developed a crush on so he could stay with a girl who needed him…well, that hardly felt like a crime.
“What if you meet Prince Charming and you’re married to me?” Logan asked.
She pretended to be aghast. “What? You’re not Prince Charming? And here I thought I had finally found him.”
Logan pulled her close, brushing a strand of hair off her face that the ocean breeze tried to push back again.
“I’d make a defective husband.”
“You think I’m crazy and are trying to let me down easy.”
“No, I think you’re crazy-kind and crazy-generous and crazy-immensely-caring, and I’m wondering how I was lucky enough to meet you.”
“Is that a yes? Because if it is I need you to sign a prenuptial agreement.”
He looked surprised. Why was she still talking? Why was she still pushing this idea so hard?
She laughed and lunged at him, trying to play her way past the hurt at his rejection. He’d clued in at how nuts (or desperate) she must be to offer to break the law for him—a stranger. But he was too quick, swinging her past him as she moved forward, then collecting her in his arms, giving her a quick hug she knew was him expressing a surplus of gratitude. Even if he thought she was crazy.
“You might be cute, but you don’t get the shop I spent fifteen years saving up to buy.”
“You’ve been saving since you were ten?” He tipped his head back, smiling at her.
“I’m thirty-one, thank you very much. But you can have my debt.”
“Are you sure?”
“It’s a pretty sizable gift, but I think I could find the generosity of spirit in order to give it to you.”
She met his warm gaze. She hated that he and Annabelle could become separated. Marriage was such an easy answer and it hurt nobody.
“You sure?” he repeated.
“One condition.”
Logan nodded.
“Absolutely no lies. You have to be totally honest with me. About everything.”
Logan was getting what he needed—what he wanted. He could stay on the case, remain close to Annabelle.
But that meant deceiving Ginger on a whole new level and putting her closer to danger. It also meant he had to break his first promise as a truly engaged man—no lying.
He’d managed to play it cool, though, as Ginger laid out a plan for them. He’d hid his desperation, his relief, letting her push the idea, so she wouldn’t back out later.
Marriage solved everything.
And he was getting married. To Ginger.
Tonight.
“We want to cash in our elopement wedding,” Ginger said, bustling up to guest services. It was minutes before they closed and she smacked the signed contract on the desk next to the woman’s cinnamon bun, sending the large potted plants on either end of the large marble surface waving. “Tonight.”
The middle-aged woman blinked once, twice. “Tonight?”
“Yes, please, Zoe.” Ginger leaned closer, her body language confiding, and Logan took the opportunity to admire the way her capris hugged her hips. “Did you call Ash? He’s supercute.”
Zoe nodded and smiled, fingering the contract. “We chatted for an hour.”
“Really?” Ginger looked tickled pink.
“We’re going out on Friday night.”
“That’s so great!”
“But the elopement?” Zoe happy expression faded. “We need time to prepare.”
“It’s an elopement,” Ginger replied said carefully, and Logan fought a smile. She’d made up her mind and that was it. Off she went to save his world, fix his problems.
If he hurt her in any way he was pretty sure he’d never forgive himself.
He tried to focus on his past training. A little heartbreak collateral was nothing compared to the lives he could save by putting Vito behind bars. It was more about what she’d feel when she found out that everything about him other than Annabelle—the only good thing in his life—was a big, fat, ugly lie.
Not that she’d ever learn he was a liar, a spy. He needed to focus on that. It was his job to weave the whole story from start to finish so she’d never learn the truth. He would protect her, allow her to remain fine, unaffected, good to go live her life, believing she’d done something beneficial for a family. Because that’s what AnnaBee was. Family.
He didn’t know where his next mission would take him, but he hoped it wouldn’t be far from her. He found himself frowning, arms crossed. He just kept finding more problems to solve, didn’t he? He couldn’t even enjoy the fact that this curvaceous, kindhearted woman cared enough to commit fraud?
Then again, he’d kind of liked her argument about how it couldn’t possibly be against the law, since they were the good guys.
Ginger was watching him uncertainly and he realized he was scowling. Not something the groom-to-be should be doing.
“Sorry.” He adjusted his expression. “I was worrying about Annabelle.”
“Well, after tonight you won’t have to worry any longer.” Her smile brightened and, like the hundred-watt beam that it was, lit up his world.
“Thanks.” He tipped her head toward him, planting a kiss in her auburn curls.
She was a good woman and he hoped whoever found her after him loved her in all the ways she deserved.
“Zoe is going to set things up. Our wedding will be something simple. Okay?” Ginger waved a few papers at him. “And they have prenup templates. We just fill one in and their legal team makes it fancy and official.”
“Perfect.” Logan drew her close, lowering his lips to hers, kissing her with time and care. Before long, the kiss heated like always, leaving him reckless and aroused, the usual guard he kept between him and others gone.
“What are we going to wear?” she whispered when they’d broken free.
All he could imagine was her birthday suit. He’d bet she had freckles in unexpected places. “There’s a boutique down the beach. Something beachy?”
Within minutes they were in a thatch-roofed hut, Ginger’s arm piled with clothes to try on. “My grandmother is going to kill me.”
“Why’s that?” He pulled a pair of casual s
lacks and a button-up shirt off the rack. He already had something like it back at the cottage, but figured he got married only once. Well, twice. And since this one was just part of his cover, probably thrice.
He’d better not spend a lot.
“The store…” She gave him a meaningful look.
“Oh, right. Bridal thing back home.”
“Wanda’s Wedding Store—I’m going to rename it to Veils and Vows.”
“I like that.”
“Me, too.” She gave him one of those big smiles of hers. “The shop is among the best in the state.”
“Why don’t you wear your green dress?” he asked, looking at the garments in her arms. They were all loose, white numbers you’d expect in a beach wedding, and he knew they wouldn’t be nearly as sexy as the emerald dress she’d been wearing the night they’d met. Last night. Wow. Time flew while on a mission.
She contemplated the pile of cotton. “I guess…”
He grabbed the clothes from her, dumping them on a nearby chair along with his own chosen outfit. “As much as I’d love to watch you play dress-up, I think you already own something much sexier.” Besides, he knew she was on a budget, and she didn’t need to spend money on him—especially since he was fairly certain she wouldn’t let him pay.
Back at the cottage, as Ginger shut the door behind them, the breeze caught it, sending it shut with a bang. Logan heard a clatter in the bathroom that sounded a lot like his Beretta falling from its hiding spot, thanks to the way the cottage shook with the slam.
“What was that?” she asked.
“I’ll check it out.” He was across the room in seconds, Ginger on his heels. She gasped when she saw the handgun lying on the bathroom floor.
“Well. Huh.” He scratched his head as if he was confused. “I guess some places leave guns as well as chocolates. The roaches must be bad.”
Ginger was clinging to his shoulder. “Is someone in there? Check the tub.”
He could see from his spot that there was nobody in the Jacuzzi nor behind the door. It was his gun. That simple.
“It’s clear.”
“You sure?” She was trembling, and he placed the weapon on the counter before turning to face her.
“Ginger, whenever you’re with me, you’re safe. You understand? Always.”
She swallowed hard.
The wind rattled the shutters against the side of the cottage and she clung closer.
He stroked her cheek, tipping her face to his. “I promise.”
She nodded slowly.
Knowing he shouldn’t, he kissed her. Her arms swept around his shoulders, her legs lifting as she hoisted herself into his arms. She felt so good, wrapped around him, and he spun, gently pressing her to the wall, deepening the kiss. The act unleashed her, her kisses turning frantic.
Her lips were everywhere as he allowed his hand to drift up her side, cupping her soft curves. He moaned into her mouth, knowing he was losing a grip on reality, his surroundings. But for once in his life he didn’t care.
Thank goodness for the cottages’ on-site handyman, Jace Fisher, or Ginger would have taken that heavy petting session a bit too far for two people about to jump into a marriage of convenience with nothing more than…a newly forged friendship as a base. And lust. There was definitely some of that going around.
The man had knocked, sending Ginger to the floor as Logan hurried to the window to peek out before answering the door. He’d relaxed immediately, but still had that ever-alert, protective edge to him. Instead of it making her nervous, as she would have predicted, it actually made her feel safe.
The two men chatted, Jace letting Logan know what he was up to, while Ginger took the opportunity to slow her racing heart and go in search of her shirt. She’d barely noticed that it had come off, her focus being solely on Logan.
He’d been completely unfazed by the gun lying on the bathroom floor—likely another result of his army training. It was still on the counter and that made her slightly nervous. What else was hiding in the cottage? And why would anyone carry a weapon while staying in a honeymoon cottage? The idea of the two together left her feeling shaky inside, vulnerable.
But then Logan…he’d just swept her up and stared at her with those steady gray eyes, telling her that as long as she was with him she’d be safe. And she’d felt it. Felt how much he meant the words, felt his honesty, the truth.
And that made her head go crazy, her heart start to sway in his direction despite her mental reminders telling it not to. Logan was a man she could just…
Lose herself in.
And so part of her was relieved for Jace’s timing.
But part of her wasn’t.
Logan came inside again, his back to the door. He paused, watching her.
She didn’t know what to do. Stare back? Find an outfit for their upcoming wedding? Say something like “you’re the best kisser I’ve ever met in my entire life and part of me is hoping we’ll consummate this fake marriage we’re heading into”?
His own decision apparently made, Logan strode toward her. In seconds he had taken her in his arms again, kissing her in that slow, sweet, intense way that sent her down a rabbit hole where there was nothing but the two of them falling into each other.
Chapter 4
Logan Stone stood beside Ginger McGinty, prepared to lie.
Cherish. Honor. Protect.
He could do those things.
It was the love and not hurt her part that was going to be tricky.
He’d stood like this once before, uttering those very words. Making promises. He’d thought he could keep them the first time, a total no-brainer. This time he hoped he could keep at least half of them without turning into his wife’s worst enemy. He needed to do his best to let her keep living the fantasy of a guy trying to do the right thing for Annabelle.
And he’d have to keep their contact short. He hadn’t been able to hold on to Kristy, because she’d seen the real him. If Ginger ever did, she’d definitely leave, unbelievably hurt. And he knew she had the potential to, because she already saw parts of him that nobody else had noticed. But if she ever saw Logan the dangerous spy she could blow everything, including her own heart.
But that was merely collateral, he reminded himself. He had to be ruthless. He had a new visa application to make, a yacht to bug, a bad guy to catch.
Keep the woman safe, then disappear.
Except she knew where Annabelle lived.
Everywhere he looked…problems.
The ocean breeze blew Ginger’s loose curls around her shoulders and she was smiling softly as she repeated her set of vows. He had rarely seen her face without a smile on it. She deserved a happily ever after. She was happy, warm, kind and wonderful. Trusting.
What could be so broken in her life that she thought marrying him was a good deal?
He brushed her cheek with his fingertips, overcome by a feeling of protectiveness. He wished he could be everything she deserved. Wished somehow…
He was acting sentimental. It was the vows, the flowers, the whole “until death do you part” business.
He wasn’t that man. He was a ruthless spy on a mission. The marriage he was entering into was as fake as his undercover name, Logan Stone.
Their marriage would be null and void before they even said “I do.” It would never be fraud because it wasn’t a real marriage. Yes, the new visa would go through, because his paperwork was that good. But there was no real Logan Stone even though everyone from Annabelle to nosy Lucille knew him as such. Ginger’s new husband would never be more than a ghost.
Ginger was steady, watching him quietly, her hands in his now.
They shared their I do’s and Logan blinked back the unnecessary emotion. She was a good citizen unknowingly helping him catch a bad guy.
But man, she could kiss like a fiend, make him forget everything he was trained to do. He was already jealous of the guy who would come along after him. He hoped he deserved her. Hoped he was everything Lo
gan tried to be: kind, caring, thoughtful.
They were pronounced husband and wife and she gave a half smile of disbelief. “That was easy,” she said.
Crime committed. Just like that. Well, an almost-crime, seeing as she’d only married his cover.
He hoped Ginger’s grandmother wasn’t the type to track him down and beat him with her purse for sneaking her granddaughter into an elopement. He’d met a woman like that in Mumbai and his head hurt just thinking about that swinging handbag.
“Kiss me, Logan.”
Logan glanced around. The beach. The flowers, the arch. The witnesses, Ted and Nadia. A few staff.
Right. Married.
To the most beautiful, captivating woman. The only person who could bring him down, defeat him, at the same time as lifting him up, letting him breathe, letting him live once again like a real man, a real person.
All he had to do was seal the deal with a kiss, show her how special she really was.
Easy.
Logan swept Ginger into a kiss that didn’t hold back in the way his others had, and she did her best to hold on, to not pass out from the sheer passionate appreciation she had for his muscular form pressing against her while kissing the living daylights out of her.
They broke the kiss, amid cheers from Nadia and Ted.
“You’re going to have to carry me,” Ginger said dramatically, sagging in Logan’s arms.
He chuckled and said with a growl, “I’ll make sure you can’t walk for a day.”
Ginger felt herself blush, wondering if his words were a promise or merely part of their show. She half wished it was the former.
“Logan, do you have a brother I could meet?” Nadia joked from her nearby spot on the beach.
“Hey,” her fiancé protested.
Laughing, Nadia hooked her arm through Ginger’s, leading her toward the dinner table set up on the beach nearby, whispering about how hunky Logan was.
Oh, her body didn’t need anyone telling her—it already knew. That kiss…it had been…well, she didn’t have words, just blown circuits.