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Time to raise the stakes.
“Dallas?”
Not thinking, just doing, Finn cinched her closer, planting his lips atop hers for a powerful kiss.
“Mmm, Dallas,” she said on a sigh that was more of a purr.
She started kissing him back, but the voltage of their second embrace caught Finn off guard and he pulled away.
Nope.
No way had he enjoyed that marathon smooch to the degree his racing heart implied.
To prove he was still in complete control of not only the situation, but his feelings, he kissed his bride-to-be all over again. When she mewed her pleasure, he fought to hold back a moan. Lord, they were good together.
Had he and Vivian ever been like this? Maybe once, or maybe he’d only wished they could be. Damn, what was happening to him? He knew better than to be sucked into the spell of another conniving woman.
“Mmm, Dallas.” She pulled away with a whispery sigh. “I didn’t know that outside of the movies a kiss could be that good.”
They usually weren’t. “Yeah…well, what can I say?”
She smiled and the heartbreaking beauty of it nearly stole the breath from his lungs. “I know what I’d like you to say.”
“What’s that?”
“Ask me to marry you. I’ve read it in your letters, but I’ve never heard you say it. Say it, Dallas. Please.” As strong as Lilly had felt only moments earlier, Dallas’s kiss had left her that weak. Her knees felt rubbery and her chest strangely tight with anticipation and tingling warmth. Was a marriage of convenience supposed to be this much fun?
“How can I ask you to marry me when I don’t know your name?”
“Excuse me?”
“You know, your, ah, full name.”
Thank goodness. Her full name. Of course. She’d almost been back to her original worry that maybe this man wasn’t Dallas after all. “My given name is Lillian Diane Churchill. But, please, feel free to keep on calling me Lilly. There’s no need for you to get formal on me now.”
“Okay, Lilly…” He paused after drawling the l’s. Never before had just hearing her name brought such heady pleasure. “Will you marry me?”
Would she marry him? She’d follow him to the end of the earth and back—that is, assuming he never lied to her. Elliot had lied, and look what she’d gotten from him. That’s why she knew things were going to work out great with Dallas. Their relationship was based upon total honesty.
She licked her lips, took a deep breath and committed every second of this moment to memory. She’d remember the way Dallas smelled, like…well, a little like beer and cigarette smoke, but beneath all that, she detected citrus aftershave and a distinctly delicious scent that was all him—and soon to be all hers! “Yes, Dallas. Of course, I’ll marry you.”
“Good. Then how about you and me getting this show on the road?”
“Mr. Lebeaux, it would be my pleasure.”
“Who’s Mr. Lebeaux?”
“Oh, Dallas,” she said, her giddy laugh carrying across the still night air. “You’re so funny.”
Not so funny, though, was when, a few minutes later, Dallas calmly opened her car’s passenger door to reach for her keys. How could she have been so scatterbrained as to not even check the other door to see if it was unlocked?
“This is embarrassing,” she mumbled. She would have added that since finding out about the baby, she hadn’t been feeling herself, but the problem was that incidents like this were exactly herself. Good grief, she was soon going to be a mother. She had to start being more responsible.
“There you go,” Finn said. Wearing a bemused grin, he handed her a wad of interconnected souvenir key chains. “Guess we’ll chalk this incident up to bridal jitters.”
“I’m afraid it’s more than that,” she said, placing her hand protectively over her tummy.
“Oh? Confession time?”
“Only on the matter that you’re about to wed a misfit. I thought our marriage would instantly transform me, but so far, I guess it hasn’t worked.”
“We’re not hitched yet,” he pointed out. “Maybe saying those all-important vows is all you need to turn your life around?”
“You think?” She looked at him, really looked at the man she would spend the next fifty years with. And what she saw wasn’t just a handsome face and warm, expressive brown eyes, but for the first time in the month they’d corresponded, she saw that perhaps instead of this marriage being the platonic business arrangement she’d expected, there just might be a chance of something more.
THE NEXT MORNING, after finally pulling into the chapel parking lot for some shut-eye, Finn woke to a delicious weight resting on his chest. From his perch behind the wheel—somewhere around one in the morning he’d taken over the driving—he saw a crown of silken gold contrasting with the black wool of his tux. To test if his latest fiancée was real, he looped his finger around one of her baby-fine curls. She shifted and moaned, granting him a breathtaking view of her profile.
Yep, she was real all right. A real knockout.
Let the games continue!
Warm sun beat through the car windows, illuminating honeyed highlights in her eyebrows and lashes. Her lips looked every bit as plump and kissable as they had the night before, and the brief memory of the way that mouth had felt touching his caused a swelling down south that made his pants even more uncomfortable.
As his future bride again stirred against him, spilling the softest of mews, Finn wondered what the hell he was doing? The marriage license they’d obtained near dawn rested heavy in his chest pocket, as did the fact that he’d had to slip the clerk a hundred while Lilly had been in the courthouse bathroom to fill out the document in his real name.
During the night’s long drive, while Lilly softly snored, he’d reconfirmed his belief that her calling him Dallas had to be part of Mitch’s grand scheme. For if Finn were to marry Lilly using a false name—to insure that she didn’t know he was on to her plan—their marriage wouldn’t be legal, thus giving Mitch the right to drive off in Abigail on a technicality. But as usual, Finn was one step ahead of his nemesis.
The one thing Finn hadn’t counted on was being this attracted to his bride. Still, he supposed his attraction to her would add a certain touch of realism to their ceremony—even if it was just pretend.
“Lilly,” he said, deciding the time had come to guarantee his winning the bet. “Hello? Are you ready to tie the knot?”
“Hmm?”
“Hello? Wake up.” He softly tickled behind her right ear. “We’re at the Wayne Newton Chapel, just like you requested.”
She took a second to wake, then eased upright, quickly processing the fact that she’d been using his chest as a pillow. “Sorry,” she said, unaware of the adorable red mark on the left side of her face from where she’d pressed her cheek against his lapel.
“How do you feel?” she asked, scooting to her half of the front seat. From the dashboard, she reached for her bouquet, which had wilted during the night. The heavy scent of fading pink roses filled the air.
“Feel?” Even as he said the word, his head pounded. “Oh right. Feel.” He flashed her a wry grin, hoping his beer breath didn’t smell as bad as it tasted. “Actually, not so hot.”
“You don’t make a habit of drinking that much, do you?”
He shook his head. “Must have been all the excitement.”
“Sure. I understand.” Pulling down the visor, she gazed into a small lighted mirror and pursed her lips into a frown. “Ugh, looks like that drive took even longer than I thought.” She reached to the floorboard for her purse and dove inside, pulling out a tube of lipstick. After giving her lips a pretty sheen, she eyed him funny. “Are you sure you feel up to this?”
“What kind of question is that? You trying to back out on me?”
If he could have bottled the feeling her grin gave him, he’d be a rich man. Gone was his headache and, oddly enough, all his doubts about the vows he was about to take. How the marriage ended they could figure out later. Right now, he planned to enjoy the moment, starting with appreciating his lovely bride.
Her lipstick was the sheerest of pink and, just as she had at Lu’s the night before, she did a fluff-and-tuck routine on her hair that left it a tousled, yet somehow elegant, shoulder-length mess. She capped it with her veil, mesmerizing him with the sight of filmy white lace whispering to flushed cheeks. What was she thinking? Did she find herself in the similarly bizarre situation of being as attracted to him as he was to her?
She lifted her hand to his cheek. Here it came, she was about to tell him how hot she was for him….
“You’ve, um, got something on your face.” His heart plummeted when she brushed at a spot to the left of his nose, then held up a gray lint ball for his inspection. “See? I didn’t want you wearing this in our wedding photos.”
“Right. Ah, me neither.” Damn. Could he have possibly misread that situation more completely? This temptress was so sly that for a second she’d almost made him forget why they were there.
Trying to hide his consternation with both himself and his bride, he fumed out the dusty car window. At dawn, he’d parked the vehicle in an alley they shared with a primer-gray Impala up on blocks and two overfilled Dumpsters. What were the odds that he’d smell motorcycle exhaust at his first wedding, then week-old trash at his second? “So,” he said, rubbing his palms together. “Should we do this thing?”
“You’re sure?”
“Why do I keep getting the feeling you’re not?”
Lilly returned her attention to her purse. “I don’t know…because I don’t feel the slightest bit apprehensive.” Her digging took on a furious pace. Could she really go through with this? Sure, making her parents proud and all was a very big deal, but after what Elliot had put her through, did she feel ready to open her heart to another man?
Whoa.
She scavenged her purse even faster.
Who’d said anything about doing anything with her heart? This was a marriage of convenience. The love-match line formed on the other side of the building.
“What are you looking for?”
“Mints. I’ve got to have mints. I don’t want to say my vows with bad breath.”
Grasping her by the wrists, he stilled her hands, then took them in his. “Lilly, you smell fine, you look beautiful. Trust me, there’s nothing for you to be worried about.”
“Really? I look okay? I don’t look as though I was up all night driving?”
He grinned. “How could you when you’ve been sleeping on me for the better part of the last—” he eyed his watch “—eight hours. It would have been nine, but remember when we dealt with that pesky business of getting our license?”
“Oh, yeah. I forgot. So I slept all that time?”
“Peaceful as a baby.”
Smoothing the front of her gown, she said, “Yes, well…”
Finn’s stomach took a dive. Was she thinking of backing out? She’d better not. He had a lot at stake. Not only a brand-new truck that wasn’t even paid for, but a massive amount of pride. He had to win this bet. Still, maybe if she was getting cold feet, he should take it easy on her, act as if he had all the time in the world for them to make their vows. “Maybe we should wait?” he suggested. “We could get a room. You could take a nap and freshen up, then, once you feel up to it, we’ll get hitched tonight.”
“You want to get a room? Now?” There went those eyes of hers again. Big blue saucers brimming with disapproval.
“Well, sure. Why? What’s the matter with our sharing a room?”
“I thought you knew how I felt about such things.”
“What things?”
“You know…” She ducked her gaze, aiming it on the yucca plant thriving between Dumpsters number one and two. “Premarital—and in our case, even aftermarital—relations.”
“Huh?”
“S-E-X.”
“Oh. Ooh. Well, who said anything about doing the mattress mambo? All I suggested was that we get a room so you could take a nap.”
“That’s okay. I’d just as soon get this over with.”
Get it over with? What kind of a thing was that for a bride to say? Even a pretend bride! “Ah, sure. Let’s go.”
He bolted from the car, racing around the now dusty sedan intent on opening her door, but he was too late. She’d already done it. Didn’t she know she was being paid to let him do manly stuff for her so that she felt more like a woman and he felt like more of a—
Dope.
While he’d stood there contemplating his manhood, she’d already hustled past the weed-choked side of the pink chapel. Coming around the corner, Finn looked up to see a gigantic statue of smiling Wayne Newton. He held a wedding cake in his hands, and an inscription across the top of the chapel read, Wayne’s House of Love, and beneath that, Danke Schoen for your patronage.
Dear Lord, what am I getting into?
“Lilly! Wait up!” He tried shoving the keys into his pocket, but they wouldn’t fit. Her massive key chain was loaded down with a pink rabbit’s foot and mini snow-globes from every cheesy destination in the West. “Can you please put this in your purse?”
“Sure,” she said, pausing to grab the wad of fuzz and plastic from him, then slip it into her white bag. She glanced at her slim gold watch. “We’d better hurry. We’re almost late. Do you have the license?”
“Yeah.” Only it doesn’t quite read the way you think it does. How would she take the news when she learned he’d been on to her scam from the start?
“Hello? Dallas?”
“Huh? Oh—right. I’m ready and rarin’ to go.”
“No, not yet.” She approached him, then, standing on her tiptoes, buttoned his collar and retied his bow tie. The warm brush of her fingers against his throat startled him. Her act was intimate—the kind of thing a wife does for her husband before they attend their daughter’s wedding. Again Finn’s conscience reminded him of how badly he yearned for that kind of lifelong bliss, and of just how far this sham marriage was from the real thing.
“There,” Lilly said with a misty smile. “That’s better. Come on, let’s get married.”
On her way inside, for the umpteenth time Lilly wondered if she was doing the right thing. After all, she was still kind of on the rebound from Elliot, and maybe a month wasn’t long enough to know someone before she married him.
Yeah, but on the flip side, she’d known Elliot Dinsmoore all her life. Could she help it if, during the brief time they’d both moved away from their hometown, the charming traveling insurance salesman had gotten married—and conveniently forgot to tell her during their whirlwind romance that he still was married?
Shameful heat crept up her cheeks at the memory of the horrific day he’d told her his news. The day she’d given him not only her virginity, but her heart. Even now, almost two months after the fact, she knew that if her perfect family, none of whom had ever done a bad, stupid or reckless thing in their lives, found out she was pregnant with a married man’s baby, they’d never forgive her.
Well, she thought, throwing her shoulders back at the same time she opened the mirrored-glass chapel door, this was one time she was doing exactly the right thing. After being dumped by Elliot, she feared she’d never find a father for her baby, but after only a few weeks of online chatting with Dallas, she’d known everything would work out fine.
From her first sight of his out of focus—yet still cute in a blurry way—online picture, to the way he promised to be a good dad if she promised to be a good hostess, she’d known theirs would be a lasting relationship. A relationship no one ever need know wasn’t based on love.
All her adult life, her family had urged her to go to college, to find a real job, yet all she could ever remember wanting to do was raise a big brood of kids—just like her own mom. Lilly dreamed of ruling a rambling Victorian home alongside a loving husband, raising not award-winning kids, but rambunctious kids who got into as many jams as she had growing up.
And just think, finally, within a matter of mere minutes, all those dreams would be well on their way to coming true—well, all of them except for the Victorian house and loving husband, but then Lilly glanced over her shoulder just as Dallas stumbled across the threshold from concrete to red-hot-red shag carpet. Even tripping over his own feet, the man was criminally handsome—maybe even more so now that she’d seen he wasn’t perfect, either!
He flashed her a smile of strong white teeth, making her tummy flip-flop. Wow. There may never be love in their future, but if he kept that up, at least on her part there was starting to be a disconcerting amount of attraction.
