The Marriage Pledge Read online

  “Maybe I’m the right man to finally keep you from getting bored. Any time of day.”

  “Let’s see, shall we?”

  Moe set a new land speed record as he crossed the pub, leaping over chairs on his way to lock the front doors, before returning to his waiting wife and rising to the challenge.

  7

  Amy followed Moe up the sidewalk, watching the way his strides ate up the space between his truck and their home. It was three in the morning, their shift having gone on longer than eight hours. Even though she should be exhausted and ready for bed, she was amped up, with energy running through her veins from their little make-a-baby session in the pub’s office hours ago.

  Moe had ignored Kimi.

  He had gone ahead and used the office as his own personal playground, opening the pub a good thirty minutes late, smile firmly in place.

  Hers, too.

  Moe was a good husband.

  Very good.

  But hopefully not so good that he’d knocked her up tonight, because she was anticipating having to keep on trying.

  There had been an undercurrent of urgency to their coupling, but also an awareness that this was something they weren’t going to do very often. Tonight could have been one of the last times they got to enjoy each other so intimately. It had made her savor every touch, cherish every movement.

  It had also made her want more, and as Moe unlocked the front door she struggled with the urge to jump on him, wrap her legs around his hips and kiss him thoroughly.

  “You know,” she said, as he pulled his key from the lock, “I heard it’s rare to conceive the first time.”

  “Yeah?” Moe slid her a quick look. Under the porch light she picked a piece of lint off his sweater. The air around them was mountain-fresh and cool. As he turned to face her more fully, she watched him through her lashes, trying to read his expression.

  He gently brushed her cheek with a thumb, the move so tender that she leaned into him, face tipped up, hoping for a kiss. Hoping he’d be tempted to keep on trying and trying with her.

  “I don’t think that doing it again would break any of our rules,” Moe said. “In fact, I think it would be the practical thing to do. A few marathon days would be less likely to test our friendship than trying once a month from now until conception.”

  She murmured in agreement. His lips were almost upon hers and her eyelids fluttered shut. When his mouth failed to land, she opened her eyes, worried that she was taking things further than he was willing to go.

  “Are we going to kiss?” she whispered.

  “Yes. All week.”

  He placed his hands on her hips, the warmth of his touch seeping through her jeans. She wanted to be closer.

  His lips dusted hers with a kiss, and she nudged the door open. “We should go inside before things get X-rated.”

  She flicked on the interior lights, her back to the house as she kept her attention on Moe, drawing him in, drawing him closer. No distractions. No interruptions. He was going to be hers.

  “Seriously?” He stopped abruptly, his tone unimpressed.

  “We don’t have to,” she said quickly, waiting for a clue as to his sudden change.

  He was staring beyond her and she turned to see what he was focused on.

  Someone had sneaked in and rearranged their furniture as per a Blueberry Springs tradition that struck newlyweds. Nobody had been pranked in years and she thought the tradition had died.

  But apparently not. Their electric stove was in the middle of the living room. The toilet seat was sitting on a patio chair, a roll of toilet paper on the bedroom dresser beside it. The room was littered with balloons, and wedding streamers hung from the ceiling.

  “Everything’s out of place,” she said stupidly. She’d been part of such a prank before, but had never really thought about how it would feel to have someone slip into your home and rearrange your possessions.

  She glanced at Moe. The situation was obviously serving as a wet blanket rather than an aphrodisiac for him, too.

  “We’ve been pranked,” Moe said, his voice flat and lacking humor.

  “We could ignore it?” she suggested hopefully, despite knowing the mood had been officially killed.

  Amy hurried to her bedroom. Her best lingerie was tied to helium balloons and was drifting near the ceiling.

  And her bed was missing.

  She’d really been hoping to use that bed tonight. For several different reasons.

  She marched toward the front door, determined to get even for the invasion. That and the interruption. “I’ll bet you anything it was Devon.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To retaliate.” She marched back to the cluster of things in the middle of the room and snatched the roll of toilet paper, while noting that the plant her mother had given her was doing quite well in its spot by the window. She mentally stuck her tongue out. See? She was responsible. About to go TP the mayor’s house, but that didn’t negate the fact that she had a handle on her life and was ready to live it her way.

  “Middle of the night.” Moe’s tone held a light warning as he listed all the reasons not to issue revenge. “New baby. Plus we’re not even sure it was him.”

  “Lame reasons. All of them.” She snatched up a few other items she might need, stuffing them into a shoulder bag. “And little Abby is a toddler now. It’s payback time.”

  “We’re in our thirties.”

  “Barely. Do we have more toilet paper?”

  “I bought the good stuff,” Moe protested.

  “I’ll wear heels during my shift tomorrow night and get extra tips to replace it. Are you coming?” She waited, hand on the door.

  “We might get caught by Scott and charged for public mischief or vandalism or trespassing or something. He’s been taking his job a lot more seriously these days.”

  “When have we ever been caught?” They’d played pranks on Devon and even the used-to-be-grumpy Ethan several times over the years. Mary Alice was also on that list, as were Jen and Rob—they’d switched the newly planted spruce tree in their front yard for a poplar. Mandy had found pink flamingos littering her yard on her thirtieth birthday. Frankie’s precious 1987 Mustang Shelby went up on blocks for his. That had been epic. They’d put together a treasure hunt through town so he could reclaim the expensive, special-order rims. They’d even tricked Scott once. And gotten away with each and every one. Sure, people suspected, but nothing had ever been pinned on them.

  “We don’t even have a plan,” Moe said.

  He was tempted, and that’s all she needed.

  “You’re lame and old,” she said, taunting him.

  “You’re young and immature.”

  “You don’t have to come.”

  But as she left the house, he was hot on her tail.

  “How do you think they got in?” Moe whispered.

  He was holding Amy’s smooth calves as she sat balanced on his shoulders, carefully loosening the bulb in Ethan and Lily’s front porch light. They’d already taken care of Devon’s with the toilet paper. Now they were covering their bases with some small pranks at the homes of those most likely to be Devon’s accomplices.

  “Who got in where?” Amy asked. She freed the bulb and passed it to him. “Sweet. LED. They’re going to miss these pricey babies.”

  Moe slipped the bulb into his back pocket, reminding himself not to sit down before he found a place for it. Getting glass in his butt would certainly lead to an ER visit, as well as being busted as he tried to explain what had happened.

  “Dawn’s coming,” he remarked, as she tinkered with something else from her perch. It looked like she was rigging up a fake spider to swing in the doorway. “John’ll be out soon.” The town’s lawyer normally jogged the streets around six in the morning. It was five fifteen. “By the way, nice touch with the spider. Lily hates them.”

  “I know, right?” She tapped his shoulder. “Okay, let me down.”

  She slid down his b
ody, his hands fitting into the curves of her narrow waist, reminding him of unfinished business and their plan to preserve their friendship by making this week count in regards to conception. Her palms lingered against his chest for a moment and she gave a satisfied hum of contentment. “You have been working out, Moe Harper. I like it.”

  “I haven’t given anyone a key to our place,” he said, clearing his throat and wishing it was as easy to clear his mind of the images of what he and Amy could get up to if they had a little privacy.

  “And you have your keys,” she said. “Think they took mine?”

  “Do you know where yours are?”

  She shrugged and he shook his head affectionately. That was Amy, frequently misplacing stuff.

  “Maybe we left a window open?” he said, holding the lid to a jar of honey as she smeared the contents on the doorknob.

  “But my guess is they snatched my keys at work, borrowed them for a few hours, then returned them. That’s what I’d do.” She took back the lid. “Have you ever noticed it’s usually a Mattson at the root of all pranks?”

  “Shh!” he warned, as her voice rose above a whisper. “And here I thought it was us.”

  She grinned and turned, her jaw going slack. Moe spun to look behind him. Logan Stone was standing on the walkway, arms crossed.

  “Um, hi.” Amy smoothly slipped the honey jar behind her back. “They’re still asleep.” She jabbed a thumb toward the front door. “Working nights really messes with a person’s sense of time.”

  Logan merely lifted his eyebrows a fraction of an inch in the predawn light.

  “Oh! What’s that? I think it’s a chicken!” Amy broke off to the side, sprinting through the yard and into the neighbor’s, even though Logan’s steady gaze never left her.

  “I’ll just go see what she’s up to,” Moe said casually, placing his hands in his pockets and sauntering off after his wife.

  He caught up with her half a block away on the alley side of a picket fence in dire need of a paint job. “I told you we’re too old for this,” he said, dropping into a crouch beside her and taking a pile of peeling white paint with him. “We’ve lost our touch.” He slipped the lightbulb from his back pocket and handed it to her before sitting in the dewy grass.

  “Logan used to be a spy. Of course he caught us.” Her eyes lit up as she said excitedly, “Imagine if we got him onside? Our pranks would be legendary!” She leaned back against the slats, her chest heaving as she tried to hold in her laughter.

  “It’s not funny,” Moe said darkly, determined not to give in and let her whimsical side rule the day on this one. They were too old for this. They were trying to become parents, and mature adults starting a family didn’t act like this, stirring up trouble.

  Although he had to admit he felt full of life and had enjoyed every moment of it. No matter how a day went, Amy always made it a fun one worth repeating.

  He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again, worried he’d say something that made him sound like a sap.

  “Did you see his face?” She deepened her voice, putting on a macho act. “So serious.”

  “Like you said, he used to be a spy. He could kill us or frame us in about nine hundred ways without even having to get imaginative.”

  “Oh, Moe.” She placed a hand on his arm, her touch sending a spark of longing through him, her face glowing in the soft morning light. “It’s okay to let loose sometimes.”

  Her lips were a pale pink, her expression so full of life and affection that he didn’t want to be anywhere else but with her. Ever.

  He gently slipped a hand under her ponytail and brought her in for a tender kiss that would surely break some rules about this not being a necessary bedroom act of intimacy. But it felt so right he let go and gave in. The something he hadn’t been able to pinpoint that had been in their wedding kiss was still there, simmering under the surface. He tried to coax it out as their kiss became more needy, but it stayed out of reach, tempting and teasing him to fully let go, to give in and lose himself in kissing his best friend.

  Amy hopped out of Moe’s empty bed, wondering where her husband had gone. After that amazing kiss at dawn, with adrenaline and life flowing through her, they’d come home and fallen into his bed—hers was still AWOL. With the sun streaming into the room they’d moved together as partners, friends, and something much larger and stronger than either of those two things combined. She could have almost sworn it was love. The real deal.

  But that could have also been the anticipation talking. Anticipation of their life together as a growing family, of a life that finally made sense and didn’t make her want to run or shake things up. One where she could just be herself and be loved for every quirk she had.

  She padded into the living room, a smile curving her lips as she spotted Moe stretched out on the couch.

  “Good morning,” he mumbled, his voice hoarse with sleep. One arm partially covered his eyes. “Feeling pregnant?”

  “You think you’re that good?”

  “Are you saying I didn’t give one hundred percent?” He groaned as he got off the couch, then placed his hands on his lower back and arched with a grimace.

  “Why did you sleep out here?”

  “You snore.”

  “Do not.”

  He grinned at her quick defense. “We have rules, remember?”

  Right. Rules. Keep it in the bedroom. Don’t pretend it’s real and start snuggling and sharing a bed. Even if hers was missing and they planned to fill the calendar with bedroom activities in hopes of getting her pregnant.

  “We need to find my bed,” Amy said, hoping the sudden disappointment that had seeped in, dimming her glow, wasn’t apparent to Moe.

  “If we don’t I guess we’ll just have to share mine tonight, so this couch doesn’t wreck me. We can break a rule in the name of ovulation.” He lifted a brow in question.

  She shook away images of them curled together, his strong arms cocooning her. Like a real couple.

  “Yes,” she said, nodding seriously, “I think that would be prudent.”

  “Prudent?” Moe laughed at her word choice.

  “Shush, you. It’s just one small rule we’re breaking. And it’s not even a real rule.” It was a perfectly valid excuse for having him wrapped around her in the night like she craved. Giving in a little bit for now wouldn’t change things between them.

  “So…does that mean you didn’t fall in love with me last night?” Moe shook his head as though disappointed in himself. “I’ll have to try harder next time.”

  Amy rubbed her stomach. “Maybe there won’t be a next time. Maybe I’m pregnant.”

  Moe shook out the blanket he’d slept under and folded it into a perfect square. “I thought you wanted to have more than one kid?”

  “Maybe you gave it two hundred percent last night and I’m carrying twins?”

  Moe’s expression softened as he crouched in front of her. “If there’s a little baby in there already, remember that dads are always the favorites. Moms are all about rules. Dads are about fun.”

  “Except in our case,” Amy said, bending to speak to her stomach. “Dad is going to be the rule man, Mom is the fun one.”

  She felt a flush of self-conscious heat wash her cheeks as she gave Moe a bashful smile. This felt so domestic, and somehow so right.

  He chuckled, then checked the time. “I’ve got to head in and bottle some beer.”

  “You’re taking your role pretty seriously for someone who’s going to say no to buying the place.” They were going to have to chat about him telling Kimi eventually, and if he couldn’t, then maybe they just needed to pick up and move somewhere else, find new careers and new adventures.

  “I still have a job to do. What are you up to today?”

  “Thinking pregnant thoughts.”

  “You do seem to be glowing. But I can’t tell if that’s pregnancy or from me rocking your world yesterday. Twice.”

  Amy snorted and waved Moe
away. He disappeared into his bedroom to get changed out of his pajamas.

  She went to the kitchen to begin brewing coffee, wondering how it was that after one night with Moe she felt content, calm and at peace with her life. Was it afterglow? Or was it just some great sex and a fun night of pulling pranks and feeling as though she had Moe on her side, which always made her feel a little bit invincible?

  She might not even be pregnant. And they were still nothing more than two friends trying to put together something that looked like domesticity. She needed to find her bed and get her head put on straight again, or she was going to start thinking this was something it wasn’t.

  “You okay?” Moe was leaning in the kitchen doorway, watching her.

  “Yeah, of course. Just remembering to keep my expectations in check. You know me.” She focused on finding the lid to Moe’s travel cup. “Something new and I’m all in, as usual.”

  He stood beside her, his arm brushing hers as he took the prepared beverage. “You know this is going to be good, right?” he asked. “This won’t be like nursing or anything else. It’s only going to get better and better with time.”

  She nodded, the words she wanted to say locked inside her like a secret. She wanted to thank him for trusting her. For going along with her crazy plan that even her parents, who were desperate for grandchildren, didn’t fully approve of. But most of all, for being him and for wordlessly understanding the things she couldn’t seem to say.

  This wasn’t a mistake, because mistakes didn’t feel this good, this right.

  She opened her mouth to speak, to force the words out. Instead, she threw her arms around him.

  When she released him, after the hug, he studied her face with a questioning gaze. She flashed him a quick smile, hoping to cover her insecurities, her worries that she’d get more out of this marriage than he ever would.

  Moe stood staring at the vat of beer. The instructions on the wall were ones he had followed before, but today he couldn’t seem to wrap his mind around the simple step-by-step directions.