The Perfect Husband by Lynn Dare
Harley
We stumbled from the bar while holding each other up. How two drunk people didn’t just topple over was beyond me.
Cecilia chuckled beside me when I stepped into a large puddle from the earlier rain. “That sucks,” she said, looking at my soaked pant leg.
I swung my leg, coating hers with water as well, then stuck out my tongue. She screeched and lunged for me. Luckily, I dodged her. We started running around the parking lot in between cars until we stopped beside hers. Both of us were panting, my soaking wet leg almost forgotten.
“I haven’t had this much fun in a long time.” She laughed beside me.
“Same. I hate being an adult. I miss enjoying life. Wait, that’s not true. I love my job, but it’s all serious, all the time. I want to have fun again. I want to remember what it’s like to really live.”
She took my hand in hers, tugging me away from the car. “Come on. Let’s live like it’s our last night on earth.” Taking out her phone, she pulled up an app. “I’m getting us a car. Neither of us should be driving.”
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see,” she sang in a light, happy tone.
In that moment, I’d follow her anywhere. Her happiness was infectious. I needed more of it in my life. I missed smiling and joking and being able to let loose. Cecilia was like a breath of fresh air. One I didn’t realize I wasn’t breathing until then.
My eyes flew open, and my heart pounded in my chest. That wasn’t just a dream I had. It was a memory. I was certain. That car she called took us to the courthouse in Cape Kismet.
I’d like to say it was all her fault we got married. While she had the car drive us there, once we got out, I must have agreed. There was no way I’d let someone talk me into getting married. Not something so big. I wished I could remember it.
Looking around the room, I realized I’d fallen asleep on the couch. The TV was off, the room silent. My laptop sat on the coffee table. I’d been going over my schedule for the next month or so and realized I didn’t have to travel out of state. It was a nice change of pace and gave me a chance to hang out with Hadden and Kennedy more. Though it also was going to leave me with more time on my hands to figure out how to get myself out of this marriage.
When I glanced at the clock, I noticed it was six at night. I had only napped for an hour or so.
I stood and made my way to the bathroom to take care of business. As I washed my hands, I glanced into the mirror. My jet-black hair stood up on end. I used my wet hands to smooth it back down. There was nothing to be done about the bags under my eyes. I hadn’t been sleeping well.
A knock on my door pulled me from overanalyzing my appearance. Some people thought I was shallow because I cared how I looked. That wasn’t the case. I liked it when others looked at me with appreciative glances. It made me feel good about myself. That it was worth it to spend time on my appearance.
Putting myself first wasn’t always easy. Breaking up with Kennedy was a huge step. One I didn’t take easily. It was the right thing to do, though. All I had to do was see the way she and my brother were when they were together. That was true love.
The knock came again, but this time, it sounded more like a fist banging on my door. I stomped toward it and flung it open, ready to give whoever was on the other side a piece of my mind.
I grinned instead. “If it isn’t the ole ball and chain.”
Cecilia huffed out a breath. Her cheeks started to get red. I was waiting for steam to come from her ears like in the old cartoons. She put her hand on her hip. “So you do know who I am?”
“Couldn’t forget my wife. I mean, what kind of husband would I be if I didn’t remember the woman I was going to spend the rest of my life with? Oh, wait. I was drunk when we got married!”
“Shut up, you moron,” she hissed then shoved me inside before slamming the door and locking it.
I was too loud. I needed to pay better attention. That didn’t stop me from being a smart-ass. “Is this how you treat all your guys? Do they like it rough? Do you have any fetishes I should know about?” I laid my hand on her arm. “It’s okay. You can trust your husband. Tell me your kinks, darlin’.”
She slapped my hand away. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
I shrugged and walked to the kitchen. “You’re easy to rile up, and I’m bored.” Opening the fridge, I reached in and grabbed a container of orange juice. Instead of finding a glass, I drank it straight from the carton then held it out to her. “Would you like some?”
She scrunched up her nose. “Gross.”
“Now, now. What’s a little swapped spit between spouses?” I winked.
Growling, she tossed her purse onto the counter. I closed the juice and put it back in the fridge.
I would have thought the next time I saw her, we’d sit down and have a civilized talk to work out what we’re going to do next. Instead, I showed my maturity and taunted her like she was a bear and I held the stick that kept poking her. Once I started, I couldn’t stop. It was too much fun.
Cecilia walked into the living room and sat down on the couch then propped her feet up.
I followed her and sat on the opposite end. “Sure, make yourself at home.”
“Are you always this irritating?”
“No.” I didn’t offer more than that, and it seemed to incite her further. Damn, I was having a good time. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit? Did you come back for seconds? I have been told I’m a god in bed.” I waggled my eyebrows as I lied. No one had ever said those words to me.
She reached behind her, gripped the pillow in her hand, and lobbed it at me. I easily batted it away.
Turning toward her, I put on my serious face. It really wasn’t a joke that the two of us got married while drunk. Well, it was, but we had a real situation to deal with. One that would require someone to annul our stupid mistake. “Okay, so what’s the plan?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Are you going to take me seriously this time or pull some other move and make me hate you even more?”
I pressed my hand to my chest. “You do know I have a heart in here, right?” I sniffled for effect. “Words hurt.”
“You’re nothing like your brother. I thought I could show up, and we’d have a mature conversation.” She stood, but that wasn’t going to fly with me.
I leaned forward and gripped her wrist. “Sit. Please. We should talk. I’m sorry about the jokes.”
“No, you’re not, but we do have to talk, so that’s the only reason I’m sitting back down.”
“Whatever you need to tell yourself, darlin’.”
“I have never wanted to punch someone more than I do you in this moment.”
“Oh, I’m sure I’ll do something else to top this. The night is still young.”
She sighed. “See, there you go again. I thought you were going to be serious.”
“I am.” I straightened my spine. “Honest.”
Cecilia muttered something under her breath then squared her shoulders before she faced me. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do.”
“I’m so glad you figured this whole thing out for both of us without even consulting with me. What a weight off my shoulders.”
“I’m four seconds away from strangling you.”
“I’ve never tried that before, but I hear it can really intensify an orgasm if you cut off air flow, then let the person breathe again right before they—”
“Would you stop!”
“Sorry. Obviously, it’s not one of your kinks. You just want me dead, not gasping for breath beneath you in bed. Noted.”
“Anyway,” she growled again. It was hot. I wouldn’t mind having a woman be aggressive. “I think we should stay married.”
My mind went blank for a few seconds as I had a sort of out-of-body experience because no way did she say the words I thought she just did.
“Harley.” She snapped her fingers in front of my face. “Are you listening to me?”
“I am, but I think you went off the deep end. Did you say you want us to stay married?”
“Yes.”
I stood and walked around the coffee table and kept going until I was in the kitchen with the freezer open. I pulled out the bottle of tequila I kept in there, uncapped it, and took a healthy swig. It burned the whole way down but also helped ground me.
“Oh, sure,” she said. “That’s smart. Drink.” She shook her head then got up and stomped over toward me. She pulled the bottle from my grasp, took a swig herself, capped it, and put it back in the freezer. “Alcohol was how we got into this mess. No more drinking while we talk.”
I pointed at her. “You just drank, too!”
“I needed something to get me through this conversation. Anyway, we need to stay married. For now at least.”
“Why?”
“Because if we get it annulled right away, Karen Palmer is going to tell all of Cape Kismet how I made a drunken mistake and got married to someone I didn’t know. My family is going to find out, and all hell is going to break loose, thus proving them right.”
“Okay, reel it back for a second here. Who is Karen Palmer?”
“The biggest gossip in Cape Kismet, who also happens to work at the courthouse.”
My brows furrowed. “Doesn’t she have to keep everything she sees quiet? There has to be some oath she took not to be a gossipy bitch.”
Cecilia chuckled. “She is a gossipy bitch, but that’s beside the point. If we get our marriage annulled, we have to put the reason on the form. The reason would be that we were drunk and made a mistake. Karen would see it, tell the world, and my crap reputation would be even worse.”
“You have a crap reputation? This should have been disclosed before I said I do.”
She ignored my comment. “My family doesn’t think I can keep a man. That I’ll never get married. Basically, that I’m destined to be a spinster and never find true love.”
I turned back toward the freezer. “I think we need more tequila.”
A hand planted on the freezer door, stopping me. “No. We’re going to sit down like adults,” she glared at me, “and hash this thing out.”
“What makes you think I want to stay married? I could go down to the courthouse and file the annulment on my own.”
Right before my eyes, Cecilia visibly paled. I’d never seen that happen before. I’d read about it in books when Ken would sometimes hand me what she was reading so I could enjoy a funny scene with her. How someone could visibly pale as the blood rushed away from their face, but I’d never witnessed it firsthand.
I ran my fingers through my hair and walked back to the couch. Was I really going to do this? Going to fake a marriage so Cecilia’s family didn’t give her grief and think less of her?
The thought they treated her like that made me inexplicably angry. How could they do that? No matter how irritated she was when she came to my place today, or how stupid either of us were by getting married like we did, she was still a person. She had feelings. I could tell the words her family dished out cut her deep. It also warmed me a little toward her. Showed me another side of her.
Shit. I was going to cave.
Dropping down onto the couch, I stared at my hands and said, “Fine.”
The cushion dipped beside me. “Fine?” There was hope in her voice. When I looked over, I could see it written all over her face, too. I couldn’t deny her this. We both got ourselves into this mess. Would it be so bad to pretend to be married?
“How long?”
“Just until things die down and people stop caring that we’re married. Then, we can stage a breakup and get the marriage annulled. We don’t have to see each other often while we do this.”
“How’s that going to work? If you want people to believe we’re in love and married, then they’re going to have to see us together. We’re going to need to act our asses off to make this believable.”
She chewed on her bottom lip. It was actually adorable. “Do you think we can pull it off?”
“We have to pretend to be in love and happy in our marriage. For a little while at least. Correct?”
She nodded.
“And then, we can get it annulled and put this colossal screwup behind us?”
She nodded again, that hope still shining bright.
“Fine.”
She screeched and threw her arms around my neck before planting a big kiss on my cheek. I didn’t have time to react before she started talking again, spitting out ideas to convince everyone we got married on purpose.
By the time she was on her way out my apartment door, my head was spinning. I couldn’t believe we were going to do this. It wasn’t going to be easy. At least it gave me something to do outside of work. My life was dull. This added some excitement, though not the kind I was looking for.
You wanted someone to love.
Yes, someone whom I actually loved, not a marriage born from whiskey.
I sighed and lay down on the couch. Cecilia said she was going to formulate a game plan and text it to me so we were on the same page.
My stomach churned at the thought of lying to Hadden, Kennedy, and my parents. Everyone else I could easily lie to, but my family? They were going to see right through me. I had to do a good job in front of them. Make them believe I found love. When everything went to hell with my marriage, I was going to have to fake being upset.
I stood and walked over to the freezer again. This time, instead of drinking the tequila, I poured it down the drain and left the bottle upside down in the sink. No more drinking. I’d be damned if I screwed up my life like this again.