by Sosie Frost
This girl had a collection of everything tacky and bizarre from cities around the country. One curio stashed city-sponsored snow globes, most purchased from places with a football team. Another cabinet housed music boxes. A third cabinet kept more delicate knick-knacks of carved figurines and pretty pottery.
She had…everything. All organized, dusted, and spread throughout her apartment. No copies of Catcher in the Rye. That was a relief. And Elle didn’t seem the crazy cat lady. Her only pets were contained within a salt-water tank. A handful of brightly colored fish swept across a beautiful hundred-gallon aquarium.
Well…the cute girls were always a little weird. At least Elle hadn’t hosted a TLC special from her living room yet.
Elle swept her hair into a pony tail, but a lock of red-streaked curls caressed her dark cheek. I got lucky. Not many men could say they had such a beautiful wife.
And angry.
She was very angry.
“Until this very moment, I thought I had already attended the worst wedding of my life,” Elle said. “My sister, Edda, got married six months ago, and I went home for the first time in years.”
She pointed me to the couch before I could poke through a china cabinet.
“I only agreed to go because my sister, Emily, begged me.”
“You didn’t want to go to your sister’s wedding?” I asked.
“My family isn’t like most families. No dancing. No alcohol. No dresses that reveal too much shoulder. No lesbians.”
“What?”
Elle sighed. “My father disapproved of the woman Edda wanted to marry—”
“Oh.”
“And so he picked a man he thought would be a smart match for her.”
“Can he…do that?”
“That wasn’t the worst part of the wedding. The salad dressing went rancid, and half of the wedding guests got violently sick. My sisters, Estée and Evie, had to keep Edda’s girlfriend from crashing the party. My sister, Erica, snuck in alcohol, accidentally got drunk, and nearly set fire to the bridal table with a prayer candle. And then my sister, Erin, my father’s favorite, announced her pregnancy during her toast as maid of honor.”
“God damn. How many sisters do you have?”
“That is not something a husband should ask his wife.”
“I didn’t ask if they were single.”
“I have six sisters—Edda, Emily, Estée, Evie, Erica, and Erin.”
“Wow.”
“The last time we were all together was during Edda’s wedding, and everyone agreed it was a disaster. But now, that seems like a fairy tale in comparison to the worst wedding I’ve been a part of. Wanna take a guess at which magical night it was?”
I had a good idea.
“My wedding was the worst—and I don’t remember any of it!”
“I remember some of it.” I examined a tiny swan figurine carved from quartz on her end table. Elle slapped it out of my reach. “If it helps, you looked beautiful.”
She groaned. “Was I even dressed?”
“You might have vowed never to wear panties again.”
“Oh God.”
Elle brushed her hand through her hair, lovely waves of dark, teased with a bright, playful red. She licked her full lips, but the frown lingered. No scowl should have marred that beauty. Too bad my wife wasn’t the type to let her husband kiss away those worries.
“Why didn’t you tell me we were married?” Elle asked.
“You had no idea we’d eloped?”
“Not until you spouted it off to the entire locker room.”
“Yeah, you earned me a lot of points with the guys.”
“I’m so glad you scored.”
“I’d love to score twice—”
Elle pointed a finger at me. “Forget it, Charming. I’m not going deep with you anymore.”
I leaned into the couch, winced, and tossed aside a—what the hell was it? An unsmoked, ivory pipe? This girl had too many treasures.
“You’re not looking at the big picture, Elle,” I said. “This is a marriage, not a curse.”
“One—this is not a marriage. Two—you have no idea how complicated this is.”
“It’s only as complicated as you want to make it,” I said. “I wish you could have seen your face when I said we were married. That is a picture someone needed to take. You were so…”
Well, then she had been shocked. Now she was pissed.
Her expression twisted well beyond sassy and threatened to rip off my boys once more. I tucked my hands firmly in my lap.
“You know, you didn’t say goodbye when you left the hotel,” I said. “I figured you knew then. That you’d regretted it and bolted.”
“Didn’t then. Do now.”
I shrugged. “But you hadn’t contacted me about an annulment, so I thought you had a change of heart and wanted to give it a go.”
“Give it a go?”
“Yeah. What do you say?”
“To what?”
“Staying married.”
“Are you out of your mind?” Elle stalked the living room, hands in her hair. “I’ve known you for three days, Lachlan. I’ve had leftover Chinese in my fridge for longer than that!”
I loved Chinese. “And now that we’re married, I’ll eat the leftovers before you have to throw them out. Everyone wins.”
Elle rubbed her temples. “This isn’t happening. It can’t be happening. What the hell would possess us to get married?”
“A pretty substantial drinking binge.” I winked. “I think it was your first one. You don’t handle your alcohol very well.”
“You think?” Elle’s voice shrilled. “I guess I’ll have to practice when we celebrate our divorce.”
“It was innocent, Elle. We were just having some fun.” Probably too much. “We met up at the bar after we talked at the combine. You had taken a photo of me at the—”
“Forty-yard dash.”
That she remembered. “We’d flirted there, and then we met at the bar. You were trying to decide on what drink to order to fix a bad mood. I suggested them all.”
“Remind me never to take your advice again.”
“You talked a lot about your father.”
That triggered it. Elle’s eyes widened. She sunk onto the couch, and I dove away from her wayward elbow as she collapsed into the cushions.
“I was mad because Daddy called me…” She pointed at me. “And I told you about him after I almost dumped my phone in the margarita pitcher.”
“You said it’d be funny if we made him mad by getting—”
“Married.” Elle gasped and leapt off the couch. “Oh my gosh, my father’s gonna kill me.”
“I didn’t totally understand the joke at the time…” I said. “But you were a beautiful girl who wanted me, so I wasn’t gonna kill our buzz.”
“I sent the marriage certificate home so he’d see it.” She paced again. “Jesus, he’s going to flip out.”
“Why?”
“Because when you run away from home at sixteen and deliberately get married just to piss him off, it doesn’t exactly reinforce his family values.”
I stared at her. “Jesus. You ran away? Why?”
Elle made a face. “Again, probably something my real husband should know!”
“Well, I am your real husband, and I’d like to know.” I crossed my arms behind my head and kicked my heels onto her coffee table. “I’m all ears…or should I get popcorn first?”
“More like the whiskey.”
I grinned. “Can’t have that. Who knows what sort of mistakes we’ll make then.”
“Yeah. Maybe we’ll get divorced.”
“You’re right,” I said. “I’m staying sober. I want my marriage to last a little longer.”
“Better savor the hours, Lachlan. That’s all you’re getting.”
“All the more reason to learn what I can now.” I grinned. “Unless you’d rather skip right to the newlywed sex?”
“Sex is preferable
to talking about my family,” she said. “Then again, so is a rusty nail through my foot or swimming in linebacker puke.”
“Can’t be that bad.”
Elle snorted. “Mine is pretty damn bad, but I guess every family is dysfunctional.”
“That’s not true. Mine’s great.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
I fished around for my phone, pulling out a photo of the rug-rat currently chasing all the girls on the kindergarten playground. “Hand to God. I love my family. You got sisters? This is Sebastian.”
I showed her the picture of the grinning kid, suited up in my college jersey and pads. She nodded.
“Your little brother, right? I think you mentioned him before.”
Didn’t surprise me. “What exactly did I say?”
“That you had a kid brother much younger than you, and you wanted to take care of him and your mom.”
“Anything else?”
“If I knew I’d drink so much, I’d have hired a stenographer.” She smirked. “He’s cute. Looks happy.”
“Should be. I just got him and my mom a house in Ironfield. They’re coming out this week.”
“And you’re…glad to see them?”
“Yep.”
Elle shook her head. “Great. My husband is a crazy person who loves his family.”
“I wouldn’t be where I am today without my mom. She’s the most amazing person I know, and Bast is a fantastic kid. I want to spoil them. I got her a huge house, and she’ll never have to work another day in her life. Plus there’s a whole arcade in the basement for Bast. And a swimming pool.” I grinned. “Also an X-box in every room, but that’s still a surprise for him.”
“You’re very sweet to them.”
“I told my mom it was my turn to take care of them. And I plan to do it.”
“I can’t imagine living that close to my family. The rules and discipline and Daddy constantly…” Elle caught my bewildered glance. “Let’s just say, my father is a bit overbearing. After my mom died, he lost it. Became someone different. Domineering. Unrepentantly strict. You know how dads can get.”
“Not really,” I said. “My dad split a long time ago.”
“Lucky.”
I wouldn’t say that. “Yours that bad?”
“Picked out our clothes every day. Wouldn’t let us have friends outside the family. Destroyed any contraband like secular music or books or magazines. Curfew was six o’clock every night, and we couldn’t participate in any extracurricular activities that distracted from our academics. Plus…” She hesitated. “He wouldn’t approve of us.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m…and your…”
“A football player?”
Her eyebrow rose. “A very pale football player.”
Oh.
“He’s very…old-fashioned. Has a lot of views of the world that…well, I don’t see things the way he does, and I knew the world wasn’t as terrible as he said. So…I left when I was sixteen and found out for myself.”
Damn. “And?”
She pointed to her knick-knacks and collections. “I wanted to see everything in the world. Oceans and deserts and prairies and forests and busy streets. I didn’t have the money when I was young, but I took enough pictures of my travels to get a decent eye for photography. I had enough skill to impress Peter, and he hired me as his assistant. I get to travel the country with the Rivets, and it’s a great chance to see a lot of America.”
“And the junk?” I pointed to her mass of snow globes, touristy ornaments, and memorabilia.
“They’re trinkets.”
“Sure, they are.”
“I’ve been collecting things. Everywhere I go. Little memories.”
“What’d you bring back from Vegas?”
Elle snorted. “A lot of trouble.”
“Did you pick a shelf for me yet…or did you want to tuck me into your bed?”
She rose from the couch. “Nice try, Charming.”
“I’m good for a cuddle.”
She ignored me, covering her eyes. “I can’t believe we did something so…stupid.”
“Hey, hey, hey.” I followed her, but she was smart enough to stay out of arm’s reach. “We were just drunk. Trying to have some fun. I wanted to do something exciting, but you’re the one who refused to bungee jump off the Stratosphere.”
“A prudent decision with that much alcohol in our systems.”
“True, but we’d wanted an adrenaline rush…so we eloped.”
“God, the romance.” Elle feigned swooning. “Take me now, Romeo.”
“We compromised on the marriage. That’s a good sign for our future.”
She wagged a finger. “Oh no. None of that. We’re getting an annulment, Lachlan. Like, yesterday.”
“Are you sure?”
She sputtered, those red streaks in her hair nearly bursting into real flame. “Am I sure? Of course I’m sure! We are ending this marriage.”
“Okay, hear me out.”
“Nope.”
“Let me just say—”
“Na-uh. I know what you’re going to say.”
“I’ve been thinking a lot lately.”
She nearly growled. “Could have fooled me.”
“Did you know I almost died a few days ago?” I asked.
Elle said nothing.
“A woman rescued me. This out-of-control, speeding car barreled down the road, coming straight for me. But this beautiful, fearless woman cared enough about me to risk her life for mine.”
She hummed. “Or maybe she was just concerned about jaywalkers crossing dangerous intersections.”
“Or maybe she couldn’t stand to see me get hit by a car.”
“Then someone better give this hero a medal—or find the driver to finish the job.”
I smirked. “This girl…she gave me a new outlook on life.”
“Something other than sexing up the first girl you spot in Vegas?”
I exhaled. “I’ve been thinking a lot about you, Elle.”
If it intrigued her, she hid her excitement behind a feisty, raised eyebrow. “This should be good.”
“Let’s try to make the marriage work.”
I expected the laughter, but I didn’t realize how much I’d like hearing it.
“Give me a chance, Elle,” I said.
“Absolutely not. Are you crazy?” Elle shook her head. “I don’t even know you.”
“So get to know me.”
“How?”
Easy.
If she went for it.
“We got married after spending three days together neither of us remember,” I said. “Before we divorce, let me take you on three dates you’ll never forget.”
Elle didn’t speak, but her big, beautiful eyes rounded with curiosity. Now was my chance.
I made the promise with a smile. “I’m only asking for three dates. Three of the most fantastic, amazing, and the most romantic nights you’ve ever experienced.”
“That’s a bold claim.”
“We don’t agree to divorce until after those dates.”
“Why after?”
“Because if you haven’t fallen in love with me by the sunset of our third date…I don’t deserve you.”
Elle wasn’t intimidated or smitten. She grinned, just as cock-sure and deliberate as the one I cracked at her.
“You think you can make me fall in love with you after three dates?”
I stepped closer. She didn’t retreat, and I was rewarded with the sweet tease of her scent—coconut and salt, a perfect sea-shore breeze.
“Falling for me isn’t the hard part.” I warned her.
“What’s the hard part?”
“Resisting me once you realize how perfect we are together.”
I pulled her close, and Elle let me hold her. The soft curves of her body pressed into mine. She’d drive a man crazy, especially with that teased bite of her lip. I hated every second she tormented that supple bit of sable
with a nibble instead of my kiss.
“I want three dates, three nights to convince you that this is worth keeping,” I said. “And after those dates, Red? I guarantee you’ll be picking out a ring to put on that lovely finger.”
“Which one? This one?” She flashed me her middle finger. “Someone really ought to muzzle you.”
I wasn’t deterred. “I’m not hearing a no.”
“You want three dates?”
“And three nights.”
She stiffened. “Nights?”
“You get the whole husband package—the romance, the fun, and the sex.”
“Is there a lot of sex?”
I pulled her closer, touching my lips to hers. “More than you can handle.”
“I’m full of surprises.”
My cock flexed. She glanced down with an arched eyebrow.
“I like surprises.”
I tipped her chin, but she surged up to meet my kiss. Her tongue flicked over mine with a sexy little purr.
This was it. I had her. In my arms. Soon to be in my bed.
Three dates of sensual fun, excitement, and the absolute rush of making a woman fall in love with me.
And in return?
I’d get a beautiful wife. A hellcat in the sack. The only woman who pounded my heart more than a bungee jump from a bridge or cliff-diving in Mexico.
She’d be mine, and she’d love every second of it.
Elle guided me through the apartment as she devoured my kiss. Her breathy sighs and tender touch sent shocks right to my cock.
Christ, it had been too long without her.
Too many sleepless nights. Too many days spent dreaming about her.
Too many practices where I stared at her instead of the ball.
I tasted her on my lips, but it wasn’t enough. The instant I had her naked, I’d prove my devotion the best way I knew how. I’d drown in her desire. Cripple her with pleasure. Lose myself in her heated honey and the beautiful petals of her pussy, one that had clenched around me like a goddamned vice—
Elle pulled away from me.
The hell?
I wasn’t in her bedroom. I stood before her front door, opened wide, just like the zipper on my jeans.