Tart (The Fluffy Cupcake Book 2)

by Katie Mettner

  I thought about the news from the doctor and swallowed around the lump in my throat. I was keeping a lot of secrets from her that I felt guilty about it, but she had enough to worry about with the trial and our business. Her hand came up to wipe away a tear I didn’t realize had fallen. “My leg is way worse than I let on,” I finally whispered, nearly choking on the tears I was trying to hold back. I was afraid if I didn’t fight it, I’d never stop crying.

  “We can see how bad it has gotten, honey. Tell me the truth about your appointment.”

  I sucked up a breath of air and let it back out shakily. “The doctor thinks after all these years, the nerves in my knee and lower leg aren’t working anymore. I can’t put any weight on it without the brace on, and even with the brace...”

  She brushed a piece of hair off my face and behind my ear. “Are you saying your leg is paralyzed?”

  “Mostly,” I whispered. “I have some movement at the hip, but from the knee down, it’s limp. I can’t bend my knee or ankle without using my hands. That’s why my leg just drags around behind me.”

  She pulled me over onto her shoulder and rubbed my back tenderly, giving me time to pull myself together. “Why didn’t you tell me? You don’t have to be strong all the time. Sometimes you can just admit that you need help.”

  “I know, but I don’t want to pile more on you than I already have. You’ve dealt with this for as long as I have now.”

  She sat back and held my shoulders, her head shaking. “No. I’ve witnessed you deal with it. There’s a difference. I get to go home at the end of the day while still having the use of both my legs. You don’t have that luxury. You get to lean on us for support, Amber. What tests does he want? An MRI or something?”

  I wiped away another tear. “No, there is too much metal in that leg for an MRI. He wants to do the nerve conduction studies. The results will tell him what nerves are damaged and how to program the brace that they want me to get.”

  “The one that costs more than a house?” she asked, her brow raised.

  “That’s the one,” I agreed. “It’s programmed with a microprocessor, so it does the work my knee no longer can do.”

  “How are you going to pay for it?”

  “I wasn’t going to,” I said, swallowing back more tears and wiping my face on my shoulder. “I was going to buy a wheelchair and give up, but Bishop wouldn’t let me.”

  “Bisho—” The word died on her lips, and she gazed at me, her head tipped to the right. “I’m trying to figure out how marrying Bishop comes into play here because something tells me it does.”

  I took a drink of Coke and let out a shaky breath, breaking eye contact with her so I could give it to her straight without seeing the disappointment in her eyes.

  “Bishop has insurance for him and his daughter that pays for things like braces. If we get married, he can put me on his policy, and that will pay for the tests and the brace.” I hung my head because I was so ashamed. “It was his idea,” I stuttered, swallowing back more tears. “He asked me after the appointment yesterday, and it hit me that I couldn’t keep pretending it wasn’t necessary to get the brace. I can’t ask my parents for money, and I don’t have the money to do it, either.”

  “So last night, you agreed to marry him for insurance instead of love,” she clarified.

  “I know it’s wrong,” I said on a sob. “I know it’s morally and ethically wrong, but I don’t know what else to do. I’m so scared, Hay-Hay. I’m barely thirty, and I’m facing life in a wheelchair. How am I going to work?”

  “Rock and a hard place, right?” she asked, wiping a tear off her face.

  I nodded and rocked a little on the couch, my arms wrapped around my waist. “You know I can’t use crutches for long periods because my arm has rods in it, too. I’m just screwed. It’s so wrong to let Bishop’s insurance pay for this. I know that, logically, but emotionally, I’m petrified. I have to do something.”

  She pulled me back into her chest and smoothed my hair, running her fingers through it like she has since she was a tiny girl. “I can see how scared you are, Amb. You never talk about your pain or challenges, so I know it must be bad. Here’s what I think. Are you listening?” she asked as I rested on her shoulder. I nodded, so she would know I was. “I think you’ve made the right choice.”

  I sat up instantly to stare at her. “What?”

  She nodded with her lips in a grim line. “I’m not going to judge you for this. I’m not going to judge Bishop for it, either. He saw a need and found a solution for my best friend, which was something I couldn’t do. Do I agree that it’s on the outskirts of morally not legit?” she asked, and I snorted at her choice of words. “Yes, but I also know that you’re stuck without any kind of choice right now. If he can provide for you what you need to remain a productive member of society, working and paying taxes, then I say you should do it. If that pays back a little bit of the hell you’ve gone through in life, then I say the insurance company wouldn’t bat an eye. If you can pay that forward someday, I know you will.”

  “That was what I finally decided,” I said, nodding.

  “Here’s the thing, the cost of that brace is a drop in the bucket of what insurance companies pay out in fraudulent claims every year.”

  “That’s what Bishop said, too. The problem is, I feel like I’m committing fraud. It technically is.”

  “Sure, okay, if you want to look at it that way. The thing is, Bishop is paying his premiums, and you know he’s paid them for years and never used much on the plan, right?” I nodded. “This isn’t like when a doctor’s office bills out for expensive tests for imaginary patients from multiple different insurance companies to rake in millions. You are a woman trying to keep her head above water while faced with outrageous medical bills that were no fault of her own. You have insurance, and you’ve paid for years on those premiums with no claims. You paid for all your braces out of pocket, since they wouldn’t pay a dime. You’ve paid your money into the pot. It’s time you get something back from it.”

  I toyed with my hair and sighed. “I mean, you’re right, but I still feel bad about it. I’m also worried about dropping the insurance I have now. I have to since I can’t carry both plans, but what happens when we get divorced?” I asked, using finger quotes. “What if I can’t get insurance again?”

  She waved her hand in the air. “It’s not a problem because the business employs you, so they have to allow you to pick it up again. If you get divorced, that is.”

  “You know I’ll get divorced,” I exclaimed. “This isn’t forever, Hay-Hay.”

  She shrugged while she twirled her finger around my face. “I don’t know, that kiss I just witnessed was too damn passionate to consider this nothing more than a business arrangement.”

  My shoulders slumped at her words. She wasn’t wrong, but I didn’t want her to think this was anything more than it was. At the same time, I couldn’t stop thinking about his words last night.

  “When we were at the campfire last night, he said if I gave him thirty days, he’d convince me that he wanted this to be more than a business arrangement. He said in thirty days that he’d convince me that I married him for one reason, but was staying married to him for a hundred others.”

  She winked, her grin growing wider with every passing second. “And that is what I saw when I walked in on that kiss. You may have just met, but that man is fierce when it comes to you.”

  “You’re right,” a voice said from the door. We both turned to see Bishop standing there. “I will protect her until my dying breath. Call it whatever you want, but I don’t think it needs a label right now.”

  He strode to me and knelt, wiping another tear off my face. “You okay? Can I get you anything?”

  I leaned my cheek into his hand. “I’m okay.”

  He offered me a tender smile but never broke eye contact. “She knows, right?”

  “And she doesn’t care,” Haylee said, surprising him enough he turned to look at her.
“She will convince everyone that you married for love because, in her opinion, love can be shown in a multitude of ways. You’re doing for her sister what she can’t. She will forever be grateful. She will also be rooting that maybe, in the end, this arrangement lasts much longer than anyone could predict sitting here this afternoon.”

  Bishop turned back to me and winked. “I know a guy who wouldn’t mind if she was right.”

  Ten

  I stood in the yard, holding Bishop’s hands like a lifeline. He was as handsome as ever in his suit and tie, a small rosebud pinned to the lapel. I wore a white, sleeveless summer sundress that had eyelet lace in the perfect places to make it look like it was made for the occasion. I could tell he appreciated the way it hugged what little bit of figure I did have. His eyes had drifted from my face to my chest several times before grabbing my gaze again with those beautiful sapphire green eyes.

  Hay-Hay and Brady had shown up dressed in their Sunday best, ready to be witnesses for the surprise matrimony. Brady didn’t ask any questions, which meant his wife had filled him in on the reasons behind the nuptials. I was thankful. I didn’t want to explain it to yet another person, but Brady would have to know the truth. I wouldn’t ask my best friend to lie to the man she loved. As far as everyone else in this town was concerned, though, including my parents, we were marrying for love.

  I eyed the man in front of me again and sighed outwardly. He was so dreamy, and I would so marry him for love. I couldn’t say I was there yet, was I? Lust? Absolutely. Like? That’s a solid yes. He’s kind, considerate, compassionate, and helpful. All of those things are what makes him sexy as hell in my eyes. But people don’t fall in love at first sight, right? I thought back to the first time we met and wondered why he was still hanging around my pathetic butt. He kept coming back, though, over and over to cheer me up and now, to help me stand on my own two feet, quite literally.

  I was surprised to learn that the secretary from the elementary school, Lucy Novarty, was also an ordained minister à la the internet. Bishop had asked her to officiate the ceremony. Admittedly, I was uncomfortable with the school secretary, who used to make sure I had a barf bucket on my lap while I waited for my mom to pick me up, was now marrying me, but I understood why he asked her. This marriage would now be legit in the eyes of everyone in the school district. I made eyes at him, batting my lashes and smiling coyly while Lucy started her opening remarks. Since it was just the five of us in Bishop’s backyard on a Tuesday evening, we told her the bare minimum to join us legally was all that was necessary. It didn’t look like she was going to listen to us, though. She had already launched into a story about how she knew Hay-Hay and I would be something big in this community from the day we walked into kindergarten.

  Bishop smiled and winked at me, clearly enjoying the story she was telling about the antics I used to participate in at the elementary school. He was unknown to everyone in this town still, but I was not. I was maybe a little too well-known, and it was showing.

  My eyes drifted to the tripod, where Brady set up his iPad to record the ceremony for my parents and Athena. While we were eloping, he insisted we needed a video of the ceremony so our families could eventually see it. I wasn’t going to argue with him. If nothing else, it would lend credence to the union upon the return of my parental unit.

  “So now, I ask, Bishop Halla is there any legal reason why you cannot be married to this woman?” Lucy asked, motioning at me.

  “Absolutely not,” he said, his smile firmly in place.

  She asked me the same question, and I shook my head, squeaking out a no at the last moment, too lost in the way his eyes were turning a dark forest green as the sun set lower in the sky. Tonight was the very definition of a romantic wedding in my book, real or not.

  Once the legal questions were out of the way, Lucy launched into all the do you and I do’s that you expect to say at a simple civil ceremony. We promised to have and to hold from this day forward, to love, cherish, and honor all the days of our lives as we slipped those wedding bands on each other’s fingers. He held my gaze the entire ceremony, mine probably petrified in the face of what we were doing. He kept me calm and balanced by holding my forearms, so I didn’t have to have my crutches with me the whole time.

  “With the power vested in me by the state of Minnesota and the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster, I hereby pronounce you man and wife. Bishop, you may kiss your bride.”

  It was honestly the most surreal thing when I remembered that I was now the official wife and the bride about to be kissed.

  “It would be my pleasure,” he whispered, taking me in his arms and planting a kiss on my lips that was more rated R than PG-13. When he set me back on my feet, Haylee was clapping with her hands near her chin and tears in her eyes. I forced myself not to meet her eyes, or I’d be crying right along with her. I figured my cheeks had to be the color of tomatoes, which made me glad the sun had set, and the sky was filling with stars.

  “Congratulations, you two,” Lucy said, hugging us both. “Let’s get that marriage license signed so you can enjoy your wedding night!”

  I took my crutches from Brady, and Bishop helped me to the table where we had the official license ready to be signed by all. Once it was finished, we smiled for the camera, first with Lucy, then Brady and Haylee. Finally, Haylee insisted we have some pictures alone with the rising moon over the lake as our backdrop. Bishop snuck in a picture of him planting a kiss on my lips, taking me by surprise at the last minute. I swatted at him, laughter filling the yard and my heart.

  Something told me marriage to Bishop Halla, whether real or fake, would be filled with more laughter than tears.

  “THAT WAS A DAY, HUH?” he asked, standing in the doorway of the second bedroom.

  I was brushing out my hair and stopped with my brush midway through the locks. “It sure was,” I agreed, offering him a smile. “If I didn’t say thank you, I should have.”

  He stepped into the room and took the hairbrush from my hand, finishing the job for me. My moan was soft as he stroked the hair into long, straight lines. It felt so good to let someone else take care of me, even if it was something as simple as brushing my hair. “You don’t have to thank me, but you did, multiple times. I care about you, Amber, for real. That’s not the fake marriage talking.”

  I smiled, and my heart was suddenly lighter to hear his words. “I care about you too, Bishop. I just don’t want you to get any backlash for this. I’m worried about that. Like really worried.”

  He set the hairbrush down and turned me to face him. “I won’t. We’re together now, just relax, okay?”

  “Okay,” I took a deep breath and let it out. “I guess I’m just trying to put everything straight in my mind. It’s hard to do that when you feel like a terrible person.”

  He knelt and grasped my chin gently. “You aren’t a terrible person. We aren’t terrible people. I prefer to think of this as doing things backward.”

  “Doing things backward?” I asked, tipping my head to the side.

  “First comes marriage, then comes love, then comes a baby in the baby carriage,” he sang, laughter in his voice. “We got married first, but my little tart, I still want to date you. I have since that first day you ran over me with a cart full of cupcakes.”

  I swatted at him with laughter on my lips. “I didn’t run over you. I bumped into you slightly because you were in the way.”

  He held up his hands. “Okay, since you bumped into me slightly with a cart full of cupcakes. When I turned around and locked eyes with you, I’ll admit, I was a goner. When you cowered in that van, and I couldn’t do anything to help you, I was instantly gutted. My soul kept telling me I had to get to know you. That’s why I finally showed up at the bakery. I just had to see you again. If only I’d known that you lived next door.”

  I broke eye contact with him and stared at the floor rather than his face. “I was equally as taken, but the difference is, I know a guy like you doesn’t end up with a
girl like me.”

  “To begin with, never say that again. I don’t play leagues. I never have, and I won’t start now. Second, what do you mean by a girl like you?” he asked in confusion.

  “No chest, no hips, a bum leg, and no hope of ever being able to keep up with you, at least recreationally speaking.”

  “Recreationally speaking.”

  I nodded with exaggeration, so he understood how important it was. “Hiking, biking, tennis, volleyball. Those are all out for me. Hell, even walking is out for me right now.”

  “There are plenty of other things you can do recreationally speaking while sitting down.”

  “Name them,” I said, rolling my eyes.

  “Canoeing, kayaking, biking with the right kind of bike, and sex.”

  My head snapped up, and there was laughter in his eyes when I punched him playfully. “Sorry, but you walked right into that one,” he said.

  “More like limped into it,” I moaned, shaking my head. “It’s late, but I think I could use a drink. I can’t stop all these weird thoughts that keep running through my mind, which means I probably won’t sleep.”

  “If they’re anything like the ones running through mine, I think a drink is in order. I’ll bring it in here. I bet you would like to relax without the brace on, right?”

  “Like you don’t know. My knee is improving, but overall, it still sucks in the pain department.”

  He stood and scooped me up out of the chair, carrying me to the bed while stealing a kiss from my lips.

  “You shouldn’t carry me, Bishop. You’ll hurt yourself.”

  He lowered me to the bed with a laugh. “Yes, your whole one hundred pounds is going to give me a hernia.”

  “I’ll have you know it’s one hundred and nine.”

  “I stand corrected,” he said, still laughing. “Let’s take the brace off and prop the knee up.”

  Since I was wearing sleep shorts, it was easy for him to get to the Velcro, but I clasped my hand over his. “I’ll do it. You don’t have to do it.”