Not the Girl You Marry

by ANDIE J. CHRISTOPHER

  He opened his mouth and immediately shut it again. Still terrified. And turned on.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  JACK WASN’T SURE WHAT to make of his father’s phone call. There’d been so much loaded into Sean Nolan’s edict: “I want to meet this girl your mother told me about.”

  First of all, why were his parents actually speaking to each other? As far as he knew, they hadn’t even set eyes on each other since Bridget’s law school graduation. Second, Jack had to reckon with the fact that he’d had no plans to subject Hannah to the rest of his family. Although he’d thought that introducing her to his mother would be off-putting, he’d gravely miscalculated that one. He hadn’t even been able to figure out a new way to lose a girl in the days since, and he was seriously considering scrapping the whole plan.

  The only thing he could think to do was head up to the gym in his building and pound his feet against the treadmill until the pieces of his mind came together like Tetris and he knew exactly what to do.

  Sweat dripped off his brow and landed on the display. He absently wiped it away with his towel but kept running. He’d run until he figured out how to make Hannah discount him as a romantic partner. The fact that she’d seen him flirting with another woman and hadn’t even thrown it into a conversation obliquely still puzzled him. Maybe he didn’t know how to lose a girl in the same way that his friends seemed to.

  He’d certainly figured out how to lose every other girl in his life. It hadn’t even started with Maggie Doonan. The first woman who’d abandoned him had been his mother. And, sure, she’d been around after divorcing his father, but she hadn’t been interested in her children anymore. As much as she and his father cultivated an image of an amicably divorced couple, Jack knew that his father had never remarried because he was still in love with his ex-wife. Always would be.

  That might be why Hannah’s similarities to his mother terrified him. It was certainly something to run a few more miles about.

  Even though Jack didn’t follow in his father’s footsteps and work with his hands, but instead had a job that his father had to financially underwrite—for the time being—Jack was more like his father than he would ever admit out loud. Beyond his gruff exterior, Sean felt things deeply. There was some deeply maudlin strain of emotionality that they shared—something passed down through thousands of years of Celtic ancestors. Maybe all Irishmen had a bit of Yeats in them. Perhaps it was just a family curse.

  He didn’t want to introduce Hannah to his father—not because he wouldn’t like her; he would love her. She was sharp and beautiful and laughed easily. Just the sort of woman a sentimental Nolan man fell for and never got up from.

  With his other girlfriends, Sean had winked and flirted and welcomed with his natural charm. Something in Jack’s gut told him that his father would be in awe of Hannah. Sean never mentioned the names of Jack’s exes after they were gone, sort of like Jack never mentioned his mother to his father. Jack knew that, if his father met her, he’d never hear the end of “that Hannah girl you let get away.”

  But if anything was going to scare Hannah, it would be a snapshot of where she’d be and whom she’d be living with in thirty years. And that was what finally made planning easy for him.

  By the time he was done, his lungs ached. More important, his mind was empty and his next step with Hannah was clear.

  * * *

  —

  AS SHE RODE DOWN to a working-class, mostly Irish American South Side neighborhood she’d never been to, Hannah couldn’t figure out why Jack Nolan wanted her to meet his whole family. She hadn’t even had his dick in her mouth yet, and he was vetting her for wife material. At least, that was what he seemed to be doing. Unless it was some jealous, twitchy thing he was doing—like the night at the museum. Maybe the full cast of his ex-girlfriends would be there to surprise her. Or just one. If this was a sign that he was really into her, it would be easy to keep him on the hook for about six more days. If it was more insecure bullshit, she wasn’t sure she could stand one more day of it without her head exploding.

  All she had to do was remind herself that Jack Nolan, in the long run, didn’t matter here. Sure, he was deadly sexy and gave great head. But he was a man—a highly educated white cis-gendered dude who presented as heterosexual. If she was going to make him believe that she was the kind of girl he could settle down with, she would have to do any amount of ego stroking he required. And now she would have to impress his entire family.

  She was still concerned that Jack wasn’t seeing the full picture of things that could go wrong here, though. Sean Nolan sounded very old-school, which in her experience often meant low-key racist.

  As delightful as she found it that Jack hadn’t asked her where she was from—the most-often-asked question on all of her first dates—she was pretty sure that her being biracial would be a big freaking deal to his baby boomer father.

  This was why it was so strange that Jack was ready to introduce her to his parents on dates two and four.

  Again, she hadn’t even had his dick in her mouth, and he was ready to risk a disappointed parental look and oblique racist comments. He either had the largest set of brass balls in history, or there was more going on here than she knew about.

  All of those thoughts crowded her head as she walked up the newly poured walkway to the well-kept, stately Chicago bungalow. Her hand felt shaky as she pushed the button for the doorbell and waited. Her heart sped up as slow, heavy footsteps sounded across the entryway.

  And she almost choked on air when the door opened and a man who shared Jack’s devastating green eyes and stupid dimples—with three decades of added depth—opened the door and said, “Finally, my idiot son decided to get some taste in women.”

  And then he winked at her.

  Hannah didn’t know what to say to that, and her mouth gaped open for a few moments. Jack’s father gave her some grace and waved her into the foyer. By the time she slipped off her shoes, she’d gathered her wits. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Nolan.”

  He took her hand in his giant sun-spotted one and shook it. “It’s Sean.”

  “Okay.” She took her hand back and wiped her sweaty palm on her conservative black sweaterdress. “It’s nice to meet you, Sean.”

  When his brow furrowed, she thought she’d made a mistake. But then he turned and motioned for her to follow. “We’ll get you a beer. The game’s about to start.”

  It was a Friday night, so he couldn’t mean the football game. That was a relief, because she would do a lot of things to keep Jack on the hook, but rooting for Michigan was a step too far. “Is Jack here yet?”

  “He’s out back with his brother.” They walked into the kitchen, and Sean pulled out a Miller beer, cracked the top, and handed it to her.

  Parched from her freak-out, she took a long gulp. The malty liquid reminded her of her grandfather, who had driven a truck for a beer distributor for thirty years. A lot of things about this place reminded her of her grandparents’ home. The décor was way more updated than the orange Formica countertops and hand-embroidered towels of her grandmother’s kitchen had been. Only to be expected given the family business. But there were piles of mail and pictures of a man who had to be Jack’s brother along with an attractive brunette and a young girl who hadn’t grown into her toothy smile yet.

  The walls mostly had beer and sports posters, denoting that this was the domain of men. Again, something that reminded her of her grandfather, though his paraphernalia had been relegated to the garage.

  Sean sat down at the table after pulling out a chair for her, and Hannah’s nervousness came back a bit. Even though his gruffness was probably a veneer that belied a softy underneath—like her grandfather’s had been—she hadn’t gotten a full briefing from Jack before coming here.

  “I heard you met my wife.” Hannah noticed that he skipped the “ex” part of that equation.


  Hannah nodded. “Yep.”

  “How’d she look?” She had not been expecting that question and wasn’t sure how to answer. If he hated his ex-wife, then maybe he wanted her to say that she looked awful. If he was still in love with her, he’d want her to affirm that his decades of longing for the mother of his children was warranted.

  The secret, romantic part of her soul decided that it was the latter. “She’s lovely. Smart, elegant. Knows her shit.” Despite her internal pep talk about manners in the car, she thought Sean would appreciate a well-placed curse. Just a little something to let him know that she didn’t have a stick up her ass.

  He smirked enough that his dimple creased deeper than Jack’s deepest dimple, and he let out a pleased grunt. She immediately liked Sean Nolan.

  Jack entered the room, followed by the man from the pictures on the fridge. Before introducing her to his brother, he swooped in and kissed her on the mouth. She felt her face heat as his lips touched hers and his freshly sweaty smell hit her nostrils. His hand at the back of her neck made the rest of the room disappear, and thoughts about what she would do to him if they weren’t in his father’s house crowded out the fact that they were in his father’s house until Sean’s smoke-roughened laugh interrupted them.

  “Act like you weren’t raised in a barn and introduce her to your brother.”

  Still, Jack took his time withdrawing from her mouth, as though it pained him to do so. Hannah pressed her fingers to her lips and looked at the skin exposed by the undone buttons on Jack’s shirt for a beat before she could look up at his brother.

  The brother smiled at her, apparently not fazed by the PDA. Hannah stood up and offered her hand again.

  “I’m Michael, the better-looking Nolan brother.”

  Hannah laughed and nodded because that was polite. But it was totally untrue. And even if it was true, her judgment was impaired by Jack’s kisses. He would always be the good-looking Nolan brother to her.

  Like his father, Michael stared at her for a long beat. She would have turned tail and run but for Jack cupping the back of her neck. Jesus, she’d never liked to be publicly claimed by any other boyfriend. On anyone else, it would seem like a petty pissing contest. On Jack, it worked for her in a major way. Like, made her knees weak enough that she needed the touch to stay standing.

  With him touching her like that, she was liable to forget that this was all a pretend game so she could prove to her boss that she wasn’t allergic to romance and get a promotion.

  “And this is Hannah.”

  “I figured that.” Michael Nolan shared the same smirk with his father and younger brother. He took her hand and gave it a firm shake before letting it go. She liked the way the Nolan men shook hands. Their skin was dry, and they didn’t posture or grip too tightly.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Same here.” Michael winked at her. “You need another beer?” Apparently, that was the sign that the Nolan men approved of someone.

  Hannah shook her head. “I’m good.”

  * * *

  —

  JACK WAS GLAD THAT he hadn’t told his father or brother about the story. They would have given away the whole game because they were shit liars, and he liked that they seemed to like her. He’d really liked walking into his father’s kitchen and seeing her there, sitting with the old man. As though she belonged there and belonged with him.

  When he saw her there, swathed in something soft and cashmere, sipping a cheap, domestic beer with his dad, he’d had to admit to himself that this wasn’t entirely about the story. This was about him wanting to spend time with this woman. Sure, if she got comfortable with him, she’d be sure to say something that would give him a clue as how to best repulse her, but he was self-aware enough to know that he didn’t want to do that tonight.

  He was going to lose her; that was a given. In the meantime, he wanted to savor her.

  “Did you order pizza?”

  His dad slapped the table sharply and said, “Yep.”

  Jack put his hand on Hannah’s lower back, intending to lead her into the living room, but Michael stopped them. “You’re not a vegetarian, are you?”

  Hannah choked on her beer a little bit. “Is pepperoni a vegetable?”

  Michael laughed. “Funny, too. How’d you end up with my loser brother?”

  Her spine stiffened under Jack’s hand. “He’s not a loser.”

  Warmth spread through his chest at her defending him, but his growing tenderness toward Hannah didn’t stop him from saying, “Yeah, says the guy getting the divorce.”

  Michael had no room to comment on Jack’s relationships. His brother might have gotten married right out of college and settled down into the family business like a good son, but he hadn’t chosen well. Karen had made Michael’s life miserable with her insane jealousy when they’d started dating, and he’d thought it would get better once they got married. Jack couldn’t remember a holiday when Karen wasn’t sulking about Michael allegedly flirting with someone in front of her.

  That was where Jack’s idea to flirt with Darcy had actually come from. But, like most things, emulating his brother’s habits didn’t work for him.

  “Come on up to my room.” He tugged on Hannah’s hand and led her toward the stairs. “I want to show you my baseball cards.”

  “Is that what they’re calling it nowadays?”

  * * *

  —

  JACK’S SISTER AND THE pizza arrived at around the same time. Bridget Nolan, with her thick acres of auburn hair combined with her mother’s gray-blue eyes and a feminine version of the Nolan smirk, was absolutely stunning.

  Shortly after they’d gathered around the kitchen table, fresh beers at hand and plates piled high, Hannah realized that she and Bridget would get along just fine. “You’re definitely not as much of a twat as Jack’s last girlfriend.”

  “Watch your mouth.” Sean’s words held little charge.

  Bridget motioned around the room. “I didn’t use the c-word, Dad.”

  Sean grumbled, and both Michael and Jack snickered.

  “Well, I love hearing that I’m doing better than the competition.” Hannah immediately wanted to claw the words back. Competition? What the hell was she thinking? It was like all of her feminist solidarity with other women had gotten swallowed up by her lust for Jack. She normally wasn’t the jealous type, but she’d probably have a Dynasty-style catfight with a woman who’d been with Jack.

  Except then, Jack nuzzled—nuzzled—her neck and said, “There’s no competition.” The only thing that kept her from melting on the spot into a pool of Jell-O was Bridget rolling her eyes and scoffing.

  Hannah turned to Jack and said, “You’re ridiculous.”

  “We need to play Cards Against Humanity so that I don’t have to see them canoodling anymore.” That was Sean, and everyone laughed at the idea that he’d read enough gossip columns to know the word “canoodling.”

  “Dad, we have to get you a better hobby.”

  Hannah wasn’t sure how this was going to go. She was a stellar Cards Against Humanity player, and she was fairly certain that those skills would go over well in the Nolan household. But she also thought it might be a good idea to let Jack win. She wanted to keep him in a good mood, and winning might do that.

  She didn’t think Jack would be like Miguel, who’d slammed doors in her apartment when he’d almost lost a game of Scrabble. But she didn’t want to risk it.

  It turned out that she didn’t have anything to worry about. Even if she had been giving it her best shot, Sean Nolan would have bested all of them. And, competitive as she was, she kind of liked it. She was cuddled next to Jack and full of pizza. His siblings seemed to like her. At the very least, they’d each shot her knowing smiles while they thought that Jack wasn’t looking.

  And Mr. Nolan—er, Sean—patted h
er arm when she won a round.

  That was why it came as a surprise when Michael said, “I thought this one was different, Jack-off. But outclassed again.”

  Hannah wasn’t sure what she was expecting Jack to do, but it wasn’t standing up and tackling his brother so hard that Michael fell off his chair. And she gasped when Jack pounced on top of his brother and gave him a noogie that might leave a mark.

  She looked to Sean, who picked up both of their beers and nodded over to the living room. “Last time they took down the table, and I hate to waste beer.”

  “They do this a lot?” Hannah wasn’t sure what to think as an only child; she knew that siblings fought. But she hadn’t expected it to be so sudden and violent. Jack’s other relatives seemed nonplussed, more worried about getting her out of the line of fire than stopping their sons and brothers from killing each other.

  “It’s Michael’s turn to get his ass kicked.”

  “They take turns?” She looked over at them. Jack had Michael in some sort of wrestling hold. His older brother’s face was red, and he was trying to tap the ground with one hand. “I think Michael’s giving up.”

  But Jack wouldn’t let him go. Not until Sean kicked him, hard, in the side. “That’s enough, boys. You’ve scared her plenty.”

  He had that right. She was a little bit terrified as both of them slowly got up from the ground. Michael’s joints cracked so loudly that Hannah winced on his behalf. She pursed her lips to keep from saying anything.

  She might have dated some real losers, but she’d never been with anyone who’d hit someone—even if it was a smartass brother. What Michael had said hadn’t even been that bad, and Jack had just freaked out.

  But it was too late to find another guy to bring to the Halloween party, and having Jack show what appeared to be his true colors now would make things a lot easier when it ended. She was stuck with him for a few more days.