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Marry Me, Major

Page 10

by Merline Lovelace


  “And sparkles,” the woman at the printer added with a wide smile.

  “And sparkles,” her boss confirmed. “Why don’t you show Ben how it works, Terri?”

  “It’s pretty simple,” the pudgy, sandy-haired operator said as she positioned a silver-hued T-shirt on a flat tray. After smoothing out anything that even remotely resembled a wrinkle, she slid the tray into the printer and pressed a button. A few seconds later the tray popped out again. The silver T-shirt now sported the head, flowing mane and spiraled horn of a unicorn outlined in shades of gray and glistening black.

  When the operator held the shirt up for Ben’s inspection, Alex couldn’t resist bragging. “Terri’s our best printer. She averages close to ninety imprints an hour.”

  “But you still hold the record,” the older woman commented. Her smile took on a mischievous tilt as she turned back to Ben. “A few months ago Alex did a hundred and twenty-three in one hour. We’ve been telling her for ages that she needs another outlet for all her bottled up energy. I’m glad she finally found one.”

  “Me, too,” Ben agreed solemnly.

  Terri snorted, the other women laughed and Alex hastily intervened. “From here, the printed products go to a workstation. Caroline’s working the unicorn order.”

  Despite the young Goth’s mascara-caked lashes and multiple facial piercings, she worked with the delicate touch of an Italian Renaissance master. Her nimble fingers wielded a pair of tweezers and an applicator of what looked like an industrial brand of superglue with astonishing speed and dexterity. Plucking strings of crystals in descending circumferences from the lazy Susan, she highlighted a few strands of the mane, then spiraled up the horn before adding a pair of piercing crystal eyes. The result was minimal, mystical and startlingly dramatic. She then attached a label that read “Embellished by Caroline,” folded the shirt, and added it to those nested in the red box on her right side.

  “Every one of our products is hand-worked,” Alex related. “I stress that in our advertising to justify our prices.”

  “Who do you sell to?”

  “We still take small personal orders via our website. Most of our current production, though, goes to boutiques and online retailers.”

  Ben tipped her a considering look. “Think you can continue the personal touch if you double or triple your sales?”

  She glanced around her shop, and her rueful expression summarized the eternal struggle between the artist and the entrepreneur. “I’ll have to cross that bridge when and if I come to it.”

  * * *

  Guessing she had some serious work to catch up on after their trip to Vegas and taking care of him for the past few days, Ben tried to convince her that he wanted some exercise and would walk back to the casita.

  “I do need to get a few things done,” Alex admitted, “but you aren’t walking anywhere. Take my car. And the house keys,” she added belatedly as she passed him the key ring. “I’ll get another set made tomorrow.”

  “I can take care of that,” Ben offered, pocketing the keys. “I can also pick Maria up from school if you want.”

  Alex hesitated. She hadn’t yet decided the best way to let Maria know that Ben would be a more or less permanent fixture in their lives. Maybe having him meet her at San Felipe’s would kick-start that process.

  “I’ll call the school and let them know you’ll be picking her up. You’ll have to park in the square and go to the adobe gate at the entrance to the school yard to show your ID.”

  “Not a problem. We’ll see you at home.”

  Alex chewed on her lower lip as she watched him crutch his way to the door. Now that her postcoital glow had faded, she could only pray they’d made the right decision by transitioning from what had been intended as a quickie marriage and divorce to a longer-term commitment. Which reminded her...

  “Excuse me a moment,” she told her employees, all of whom were obviously eager to share their impressions of their boss’s new husband. “I need to make a call.”

  She retreated to her cubbyhole of an office and hit the speed dial for Paul Montoya. The attorney specialized in family law and had come highly recommended. Thankfully, he charged for his services on a sliding scale that allowed him to take on clients who might otherwise have to rely on court-appointed pro bono attorneys. Alex could afford him. Barely.

  She expected to be asked to leave a message and was surprised when she got put through. Montoya’s gruff greeting put her on instant alert.

  “Hey, Alex, I was just going to call you.”

  A dozen different reasons for him to contact her flashed through her mind. Not least of which was that the judge had ruled against her petition for adoption.

  “Why?” she asked, her heart hammering. “What’s happening.”

  “Maria’s father is scheduled for a parole hearing next month.”

  “You’re kidding!” Surprise dropped her jaw. “The bastard’s served less than half his sentence.”

  “Yeah, I know. And you know the problem. New Mexico prisons are understaffed and overcrowded. Our legislature’s trying to pass an emergency funding measure to increase recruitment of corrections officers. Until that goes through and additional guards get hired and trained, the state has to rotate out its prison population.”

  Rotate out. Alex’s lip curled. What a disgusting euphemism for putting creeps like Eddie Musgrove back on the street.

  “How does the parole hearing affect the custody hearing with Judge Hendricks?” she asked urgently.

  “Best guess, Hendricks will delay the hearing until Maria’s dad can be present.”

  “Damn!”

  “I know that’s not what you want to hear. But it’ll work to our advantage if Musgrove is present and we can get him to admit he’s opposed the adoption out of spite.”

  “If we can get him to admit it.”

  Remembering the pain that sleaze had caused both Janet and Maria made anger boil in Alex’s chest. The sensation was so fierce and hot that she almost forgot the original reason for her call. It didn’t hit until Montoya promised to get back to her as soon as he knew the results of the parole hearing.

  “Wait! I have news, too.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’m married.”

  A flat silence followed the announcement. After that came a low whistle. “I didn’t think you’d really go through with that crazy scheme.”

  “You didn’t think it was so crazy when I discussed it with you.”

  In the best lawyerly tradition, Montoya dodged the bullet. “Fax me a copy of the marriage certificate ASAP.”

  “Okay.”

  “And give me some detail to take to Judge Hendricks.”

  “Like what?”

  “Names, dates, places. Anything that’ll make this sound legit.”

  “His name is Benjamin Kincaid. He’s an air force major assigned to Kirtland.” The well-rehearsed patter rolled out easily. “We met two years ago in Vegas and reconnected this past weekend.”

  “Uh-huh.” Montoya dripped sarcasm like a leaky oil pan. “And the flames just spontaneously reignited.”

  “Pretty much.”

  “You do realize how convenient this sounds.”

  “I do.” Alex gripped the phone. “Believe me, I do.”

  “Well, let’s hope the judge buys it. Fax me that certificate,” he instructed again, “and I’ll get back to you.”

  * * *

  When Alex said good-night to her crew, locked the shop behind her and walked the few blocks through the hot May night to her home, she was still chewing over Montoya’s unwelcome news. She spent most of the short walk to the casita debating whether to tell Maria that her dad might be out of prison and on the streets again in the near future.

  As if the prospect of Ben infiltrating the girl’s world on a somewhat permanent basis wa
sn’t unsettling enough! How much more could the ground shift under a seven-year-old’s feet before it opened up and swallowed her? The question bit at Alex so viciously that by the time she rang her front doorbell, her stomach was in knots.

  The excited little girl who answered the bell looked so different from her mental image that Alex blinked.

  “Why are you so late?” Maria wanted to know. “Ben ’n’ me made dinner.”

  “Ben and I.”

  “Ben ’n’ I. It’s all ready. I wanted to call you but he said we had to wait.”

  “Sorry,” Alex murmured, still trying to adjust to the novelty of a prepared dinner. “I got busy at work. What are we having?”

  “Mac ’n’ cheese.” Maria skipped down the tiled hall, her excitement still bubbling. “With black beans ’n’ chicken ’n’ some green stuff in it. Broccoli or peppers or something. Ben cut those up while I heated the water for the noodles. ’N’ I didn’t let it boil over or anything.”

  “Wow! I’m very impressed.”

  Even more impressed when she saw the table was set and a bottle of Chilean red was breathing on the counter.

  Ben pivoted away from the stove on his good foot to greet her. “Maria’s got the makings of a great little chef.”

  “News to me,” Alex commented, aiming for the wine.

  She could really use a glass. The possibility that Eddie Musgrove might be paroled was bad enough. Even worse was the possibility Judge Hendricks might delay final adoption proceedings pending the parole hearing. She tried to get her mind off both and enjoy a dinner punctuated by Maria’s lively chatter about school and the new game she wanted to download to her pretty pink iPad. Alex’s somewhat absentminded approval sent Maria scurrying to her room right after dessert to retrieve her iPad. She came racing back with the device in hand and an impatient request for Alex to screen the game.

  “It’s Baby Dragons II.”

  She shifted from foot to foot while Alex checked the parental guidelines and scrolled through the reviews.

  “Dinah’s got it,” Maria grumbled. “Her mom’s already checked it out.”

  Alex replied with the universally noncommittal, “Mmm.”

  More antsy than ever, Maria crowded close while Alex downloaded the app and tested both Dragon Flight Training and River Raft with Your Dragon. Wisely, Alex disabled the in-app purchase feature before surrendering the iPad.

  “Yes!”

  Racing for the living room, Maria hopped onto the sofa and was instantly immersed in baby dragons. Alex didn’t bother to remind her that clearing the table was one of her chores. Especially when Ben poured a little more wine, sprawled back in his chair and voiced a quiet question.

  “Did something happen after I left you at work? You seem distracted.”

  She glanced over at him, surprised. They’d been married only a few days and he was already reading her moods? She threw a quick look in Maria’s direction to make sure she was totally absorbed.

  “I called my lawyer after you left,” she told Ben quietly. “To let him know about us.”

  “And?”

  “And he informed me that Maria’s father is scheduled to meet the parole board next month.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  “Uh-oh is right.” She shot the girl another quick look. “My lawyer thinks the family court judge may delay the final adoption hearing so the jerk has a chance to make his case in court. I’m more worried he may show up here.”

  Ben didn’t alter his slouch but Alex couldn’t miss the way his eyes suddenly narrowed. “Tell me again what he’s in for.”

  “Drugs, mostly. Selling and transporting. It didn’t help his case, though, when he tried to resist arrest.”

  “He also blackened your sister’s eye, if I recall correctly.”

  She’d forgotten that she’d showed him that picture of Janet. She’d done it for effect but the inescapable truth now made her squirm.

  “According to Janet, that was the only time he got violent with her. And she swore to her last breath that Eddie loves his daughter in his own careless way...”

  Her voice trailed off, conveying anything but certainty. Ben had no doubts, however. He’d spent too much time in and out of foster homes to trust a “careless” parent. Especially one caught up in drugs. Keeping his thoughts to himself, he made a seemingly casual observation.

  “Then it’s a good thing I’m going to be around awhile. Between us, we should be able to keep Maria safe.”

  He had no trouble interpreting the emotions that flooded her warm brown eyes. Relief, first. Gratitude, next. Her smile conveyed both as she reached a hand across the table to grip his.

  “I know I’ve thanked you for agreeing to marry me. At least, I think I have. If not, I do. From the absolute rock bottom of my heart.”

  Okay. All right. Ben was rational enough to know that the annoyance her fervent comment generated was completely irrational. Yet the stone-cold fact was he didn’t want her gratitude. Or a marriage made “real” by lust and by circumstance.

  What he wanted...

  What he expected...

  Hell! This woman had tied him in so many knots over the past few days that he wasn’t sure exactly what he wanted to come out of their crazy agreement.

  “You did thank me,” he returned curtly. “Several times.”

  She drew back, blinking at the clipped response, and Ben cursed under his breath. Smooth, Kincaid. Really smooth. Shoving away from the table, he pushed to his feet.

  “Let’s get the kitchen cleaned up. Then I’ll give Maria a run for her dragon money.”

  “You cooked,” Alex responded with more than a hint of frost. “I’ll clean.”

  Smothering another silent curse, Ben jammed the crutches under his arms and rounded his end of the table. When he intercepted her halfway to the sink, she stopped, plates gripped in both hands, and tipped him a cool look.

  “Sorry,” he said. “That came out wrong. What I meant to say... What I should have said is that no thanks are necessary. We both went into this with our eyes open.”

  “True, but—”

  “No buts. I’m a big boy. I know what I’m doing.”

  Most of the time. This, he decided as he looked down into her worried eyes and pouty lips, wasn’t one of them. With an urge so sudden and sharp it almost unbalanced him, he wanted to swoop down. Plunder that ripe mouth. Kiss the worry from her eyes.

  The need to taste her rose in swift, sharp spikes. He had to curl his fists around the crutches’ hand supports to keep from grabbing her, dirty dishes and all, and backing her against the sturdy kitchen table. The only thing that restrained him was the fact that they now shared a bed...and had the whole night to enjoy it.

  The thought sent him whirling on his good foot and aiming for the living room. Maria looked up at his noisy entrance, her small hands poised over the iPad. Her smile was quick and tentative and tugged at his heart. With a silent, savage vow that no asshat drug dealer was going to hurt her as long as he was around, Ben clumped over to the sofa.

  “Okay, kid, let’s see how good you are at this dragon stuff.”

  Chapter Eight

  Alex couldn’t believe how quickly each member of her little family acclimated to each other over the next few days. Part of that was due to the fact that, despite his injury, Ben worked long hours, with an occasional night shift thrown in. They were nearing the end of a crew training cycle, he explained. Civilian contractors actually operated the sims and programmed the results, but military special operators with actual combat experience oversaw the operation. A key aspect of his new job was to maximize simulator time with around-the-clock shifts.

  Between those training sessions, Ben made the required follow-up visit with his surgeon. Alex insisted on accompanying him to make sure she understood how the healing process was going. Thankfully, X-rays
showed the bones had already begun to fuse and the doc shortened his prognostication that his patient would be on crutches from six weeks to five. Relieved and determined, Ben shortened that to fit his own timetable. Alex tried to suggest he was risking a permanent injury but he assured her that he wasn’t going to go all stupid.

  At work, Alex had ramped up her schedule, as well. She got a big new order for French-themed T-shirts from the Paris Hotel and Casino in Vegas, courtesy of her old boss’s connections with the owner. One hundred and twenty S-M-L-XL Ts in three different colors and designs. Thankfully, Dinah’s mom was only too happy to earn extra cash babysitting during the extra hours Alex put in at her shop.

  Even when she and Ben came home whipped, however, they seemed to magically revive when they tumbled into bed together. Some nights were fast and wild and ignited a smoldering fire in Alex’s blood. Others, Ben’s oh-so-skilled hands and clever mouth had her drifting a tide of exquisite sensation as soft and enveloping as a cloud.

  The evenings neither she nor Ben had to work, though, they devoted to Maria. To Alex’s relief, the girl adjusted to Ben’s presence in their lives with surprising ease. Probably because he went all out to engage her interest and affection.

  His first real success was a visit to the Albuquerque BioPark on a bright, sunny Saturday afternoon. Just him and Maria flying solo. Located along the Rio Grande near the heart of the city, the park environs included a zoo, an aquarium, botanical gardens and Tingley Beach with its ponds, walking trails, bike paths and pedal boat rentals. Alex had sent them off with explicit instructions to Maria not to let Ben overdo it on his crutches and similar orders to Ben not to let Maria wheedle too many ice-cream cones out of him. They returned four hours later with noses tipped red by the bright May sun and dozens of digital photos on Ben’s iPhone.

  Alex was curled up on the sofa, a sketch pad in hand, when they got home. Maria plunked down beside her and proceeded to provide a running commentary of the photos while Ben leaned over the back of the sofa. Alex could smell the sun caught in his shirt, almost feel the heat from his body as he leaned closer. Distracted and more than a little disconcerted by the tingles his close proximity roused, she forced herself to focus on the photos.

 

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