Accidentally Married Read online

  She needed to stick to allowing the dating service she’d hired, We Win Your Love, to choose—scientifically via a trusted algorithm—her Mr. Right and Forever. Algorithms didn’t fall prey to charm, spontaneity and fun, causing them to make poor decisions.

  “When was your wedding?” Babette asked. “Was it big?”

  Jill opened her mouth to reply, but the words stuck there. She didn’t have a “story” ready for public consumption. Especially since Burke had been publicly seeing the governor’s daughter, Autumn Martinez, since their marriage. Jill hated to admit it, but she’d been jealous when she’d seen a picture of them in the paper, grinning while cutting the ribbon together at a new city park.

  Burke might still be involved with Autumn, who was publicly on the prowl for a husband.

  “It was…it was a private affair,” Jill said honestly. She glanced at Burke. She felt as though she owed him one. She’d borrowed against his credit, albeit unknowingly, and she could tell that stressed him out. Sure, she had a careful, meticulously outlined five-year plan where she’d steadily expand her business, taking it slow and easy while performing her full-time work at All You, a cosmetics company. She would think and strategize before taking each step so she didn’t end up ruining another business by not staying on top of everything.

  She could tell he needed Tiffer in the way he put up with the guy being slightly pompous and condescending. Assumptive. Men like Burke walked away from guys like that. And he wasn’t walking.

  She’d spoken up, thinking it might change things for Burke, but she really shouldn’t have.

  They were arranging to get a divorce.

  Tomorrow.

  That would not help Burke look like a stable man in Tiffer’s eyes.

  Burke slipped a hand along the back of Jill’s chair, joining her conversation with Babette. “After we made the decision, we moved quite quickly. Didn’t we, Jill?” His thumb ran over her shoulder, and she shivered at the contact.

  “We did,” she admitted. “Kept it unconventional. No rings. No gown.”

  “Just a top hat and veil.”

  Jill glanced at him. Did he recall their wedding? He gave a small nod as though savoring the memory, trying to bring more of it to mind.

  “You make it sound as though that was all the two of you were wearing,” Babette said with a tinkling laugh.

  Burke let out a short chuckle. “Jill wasn’t as immune to my charms as she believed, that was for sure.”

  “I think it was the other way around. You admired a woman who could keep you in line.”

  Burke chuckled again, warming her.

  “I like her,” Tiffer said to Burke.

  “She doesn’t back down,” he’d replied, with a smile twisted with wry humor as well as a hint of admiration and attraction which sucker-punched Jill’s desire to keep picking at him. It was that same look he’d given her in the conference hotel’s bar when she’d said to heck with being proper and had let it all hang out, like she was one of the guys. But like today, she’d been done up as a sexy businesswoman. His type. Not a small-town gal with a hobby business who preferred to wear jeans and eat tasty doughnuts. Or ice cream. Or perhaps a sundae with whipped cream and chocolate syrup. And those crunchy little cookie bit toppings.

  That attraction wasn’t real. But she found herself wishing it was.

  “How did you meet?” Tiffer’s wife asked.

  “The Metro Conference,” Jill said. “I’d been hounding him for a meeting for months.”

  “Are you going again in April?” Babette asked Burke.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Oh, you have to! We’ve booked a suite and Tiffer will be taking proposals all weekend.”

  “You gotta show off your new wife, Burke.” There was an unspoken dare in Tiffer’s words, and Burke, who still had his arm along the back of Jill’s chair, stiffened.

  “Maybe if we’re not too busy with world domination by then,” he said, smiling at Jill.

  “Oh, I’m certain we will be.” She returned his smile, feeling like they had each other’s backs.

  “Tell you what.” Tiffer sat back in his chair, and the way he studied Burke made Jill want to jump to her husband’s defense no matter what was coming. “Meet my team at the Metro Conference. Make your pitch.”

  “It would be my pleasure,” Burke replied.

  “Bring your wife.”

  “Our businesses are separate.”

  “Bring her.”

  Jill resisted the urge to say “I’m right here, stop talking like I’m not.”

  “Would you like to come?” Burke asked Jill, his jaw flexing. It was a little more than two months away from now. Surely they’d be divorced, and strangers again by then.

  She teased Burke, “Share a room this year?”

  “We did last year, so why not again?” His voice was low, rumbling, and her mind flew to her scattered memories of their wedding night.

  Suddenly it was very warm in his sports coat.

  “Great. The newlyweds will be there,” Tiffer said without amusement, as salads were placed on the table. “If the team likes you and your proposal, we’ll sign Sustain This, Honey. You know our old base fee?”

  “I do.”

  “It’s increased by 18 percent. Will that be an issue?”

  Jill could tell Burke was trying to act cool even though inside he was fist-pumping to his success.

  “Not a problem,” he said in a controlled voice.

  A tension settled over the table as though the two men had challenged each other to a duel and were waiting for the other to break the rules of combat first. Jill placed a hand over Burke’s, which was clutching a fork. His gaze flicked to hers and she smiled.

  Their plans had breathing room now. This was good.

  “To the newlyweds and business prospects,” Babette said.

  Everyone lifted their glasses. “To a whole new unrecognizable life,” Burke said forcefully. He emptied his glass and Babette lowered hers to the table, clinking it with a spoon.

  “Come on, newlyweds,” she coaxed, watching them expectantly.

  “Jill isn’t into public displays…” Burke began uneasily.

  “This is so exciting,” Jill said, trying to divert the topic. “I’m sure the two of you will have so much to talk about at the conference.”

  Tiffer was staring at Burke, and she could sense things shifting. Burke needed this deal. Jill needed this deal. But there was something going on under the surface, and if Burke didn’t kiss her, who knew what might happen.

  “Come on, newlyweds,” Tiffer’s wife repeated. “Let’s celebrate!” She clinked her glass again.

  It was just a kiss. A kiss that could solve and protect everything.

  Jill hooked her hand around the back of Burke’s neck and pulled his face close to hers. “Kiss me.”

  He stared at her, his whole body taunt with tension. For a moment she thought he was going to pull away, deny her, humiliate her with rejection.

  “Fine. Brace yourself.”

  Jill’s amused laugh was cut short by his lips landing on hers. His mouth was hungry, impatient and demanding. She gripped his face, forcing him to slow down and enjoy the moment, the contact. It could be their last kiss.

  His mouth was hot, his hands moving to her waist, pulling her closer. She needed this. Desired this. She wanted to crawl into his lap and feel his body pressed to hers like a comforting presence.

  What was this between them? They fought like they could barely stand each other, then the next moment were laughing, and then kissing so passionately they might burn the place down.

  No wonder she’d married him.

  She let out a moan of contentment as his tongue met hers. She edged closer. Someone cleared their throat, but Jill shut out the rest of the world so she could enjoy being lost in Burke’s kiss.

  She was fed up with trying to please lovers, walking away never quite satisfied, and this kiss…this kiss claimed that Burke was the type of
man whose mouth made promises she knew his body could keep.

  She remembered. Remembered a lot.

  And it was all toe-curling good.

  There was another loud throat clearing and a pleading voice said, “Sir. Madam. Please.”

  Burke broke the kiss first, his eyes hazed with lust and longing, which Jill was certain was being reflected back at him full force. He looked as though he was struggling to place himself, like he was lost in some alternate universe. They were both breathing hard and it was difficult to resist the urge to draw him back into another life-altering, world-tipping kiss. To lose herself again.

  “Sir? Madam?”

  She’d crawled onto Burke’s lap at some point, sitting sideways, completely absorbed in him. Her side was cold and wet, and she realized they’d spilled his water glass over the linen tablecloth.

  Their waiter was awkwardly standing over them, trying to fix the tangled cloth.

  “Oh! I’m so sorry.” Jill jumped up, the tablecloth shifting with her movement as she tried to squeeze her larger frame into a gap between chairs she swore she would have fitted through a year ago. Another glass of ice water toppled over, spilling into Burke’s lap. Jill exclaimed and snatched a napkin, swiping at his crotch. Realizing what she was doing, she straightened in horror, elbowing the waiter, who was trying to sop up the water on the table.

  “I’m so sorry!”

  Tiffer had a hand over his mouth and was barely holding back his guffaws, while his wife fussed about with the waiter. All around the restaurant, attention angled toward the growing mishap.

  “I’m so sorry,” Jill said yet again, tucking her elbows at her sides, her hands clenched together across her chest so she wouldn’t cause any more harm. The borrowed suit jacket was gaping, revealing her open blouse with the missing buttons, and she quickly readjusted it. She dared a glance at Burke, who looked shell-shocked.

  “It’s fine,” Tiffer’s wife kept repeating, her face bright red. “It’s fine.”

  There was no way this evening was being saved. Jill had acted inappropriately, spilled water everywhere while she made out with her accidental husband, misleading Burke’s possible future business partners as well as completely humiliating herself.

  She needed air. She needed to get away from this mess and the spontaneity and disaster that followed her whenever she was with Burke.

  She needed to save everything before it was too late.

  Burke was still struggling with the shock of having made out with Jill in the middle of the posh restaurant. He hadn’t expected the kiss or his intense reaction to it.

  No wonder he’d married her. She was some sort of temptress that made him want her—badly.

  Babette was gaping after Jill, who’d fled seconds ago. Tiffer was still laughing, every once in a while letting out an extra loud guffaw.

  Burke clutched the edge of the table, trying to wrap his head around the situation and how he had obviously mortified his…his wife.

  They might have an accidental marriage, but there was no reason he shouldn’t still treat her with respect. And he wasn’t so sure he had. It was like everything he knew about himself and how to behave went out the window when she was around.

  “Please excuse us.” He tossed his sodden napkin on the table along with what cash was in his wallet.

  “No, please.” Babette pushed the money back his way. “Go to her.”

  Burke turned, leaving the money, eyes averted to avoid seeing the mirth of the other patrons.

  He caught up with Jill almost a block away. Despite her high heels, she could move like an Olympic speed walker.

  “Jill…”

  She went faster, her hands moving to her face as though dealing with tears.

  Burke’s shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry. But really…it’s okay. It’s not a big deal.”

  It was just a hot kiss, right? Spilled water. Worse things had happened, he was certain.

  She didn’t turn, didn’t slow. “I’ll see you at the meeting tomorrow.” Her voice was tight with emotion.

  This was usually where Burke would bail, have his assistant send a nice breakup gift and move on. He stopped walking and shoved his hands into his wet pants pockets, her winter jacket still tucked over his arm. She’d left it behind in her haste to leave and she had to be chilled—or soon would be once her mortification wore off.

  “Are you okay?” he called.

  “No,” she shouted. “That was so…so humiliating.” She turned, her expression so stricken it caused him to start walking again.

  “So hot?” he murmured, when he was within a foot of her.

  She let out a shuddery exhalation, her breath causing a cloud in the cold evening air, her fingertips going to her brow as she dropped her head. “Not helpful.”

  He held out her coat and she blinked at it before gratefully sliding her arms into the sleeves.

  “It was also…” He cleared his throat, saw a brick building beside them and leaned against it. “…unexpected.”

  Act casual, man. It was just a kiss.

  A kiss that had opened a floodgate of memories from them laughing in the bar, to him proposing, to waking up alone. Abandoned.

  He rolled his stiff shoulders. Surely it wasn’t true abandonment. She’d claimed she hadn’t even remembered most of the night and, until recently, it wasn’t as though he recalled many details, either.

  Jill was looking up now, apparently worrying over something new. “I lied to them.”

  “Not really. We are married.”

  She sniffed once, twice. She kept tipping her head higher and higher, as if she might somehow rise above the emotion plaguing her and get it back under control.

  “Come here,” he said, lifting his hands out at his sides.

  “I’m fine,” she said quickly, shivering with the cold. Another sniff. She was losing the battle. Despite the way she could bust his balls, she was a woman on the brink. A woman with a wet skirt wearing a too-big suit jacket stuffed under her open winter coat, making her look like someone in need of a hug.

  He eased to her side, checking to see if she was okay with him in her space before wrapping his arms around her, drawing her body against his, stroking her hair. She let out a shudder, her face tucked into the crook of his neck. She was the perfect height for a snuggle, and her soft curves felt…good. Really good. Comforting almost.

  How did this mess they were in somehow feel so right?

  Did he just need a hug, too? Was that all this was?

  “I’m sorry,” he said again.

  Her arms snaked around his waist, squeezing him tight. They stayed that way for a long moment, a cold breeze gusting around them, sending discarded fliers up into the air, swirling before settling around them, the nearby streetlight brightening their piece of the earth.

  She tipped her head back to study him, leaving the spot against his neck feeling chilled.

  “Okay?” he asked.

  “I’m not going back in there.”

  “Still hungry?” They hadn’t gotten past salads.

  Her gaze traveled to his mouth, and without thinking, he let nature do its thing, pulling her cold lips to his. But this time, knowing now how easy it was to get caught up in the power of kissing her, he left it at a gentle, sweet kiss before pulling back.

  “What was that for?” she whispered.

  “It just felt right.”

  “Just felt right?” Her brow furrowed. “That sounds familiar.”

  Her arms were still around him and he gave her another squeeze, not quite ready to let her go. He chuckled as a new memory weaved its way to the front of his mind, unfurling there. “I think that’s what I said after I proposed to you.”

  “You proposed?”

  “You don’t remember? The biggest day of your life?” He grunted in disappointment. “I’m hurt.”

  She gave him a playful scowl and pushed him away. “Marrying you was not the biggest day of my life.”

  “Then what was?” he asked,
snagging her chilled hand as they began walking, worried she’d leave him standing on the gusty street, his curiosity unfulfilled.

  She shrugged. “I’m not sure it’s happened yet. But marrying you is so not it.” She laughed, her eyes crinkling. For a moment he felt a connection between them, and it made him want to find a way to share more moments like this with her.

  “Again, I’m so hurt you don’t remember our big night.”

  “You don’t even remember it.” She leaned closer, tagging him on the chest with a finger from her free hand. She didn’t seem to mind that he was still holding her other hand and he wrapped his other hand around it as well, pressing his warmth into her. She had paused in her walking, looking thoughtful. “Or do you?”

  “Some of it. Mostly just the beginning and the morning. But the past day has refreshed a few details, as well as placed a few things I thought were…” Fantasies. “…dreams.”

  They fell into step, moving again, and he readjusted their grip so they were palm to palm. It felt good, that connection. Solid and strong.

  “So, tell me the story of how you proposed,” Jill said. “If you remember.” She was studying the sidewalk in front of them, her steps uneven as she avoided the cracks in the concrete.

  “Afraid you’ll break your mother’s back?” he asked, referring to the old saying that if you stepped on a sidewalk crack it would have that result.

  “The day I stomped on them all the way home from school my mom was in a car accident.”

  “I’m sorry, Jill.”

  She flashed him a bright smile. “Just kidding.” She stepped on a crack, and he winced. “So? You proposed?”

  “We were in that bar in the basement of the conference hotel. Remember it?”

  She nodded.

  He focused on the threads of memory he had, willing them to flesh out into a full story so he could enthrall her with its retelling.

  “There was a wedding there that night. The place was packed.”

  She was squinting like an amnesiac struggling to pull up her own name. “Good music?”

  “Yeah, it was very festive. There was a live band playing songs in Spanish.” He backtracked to explain that the wedding had had a Mexican theme and there had been lots of fun traditions and that the partiers had drawn them into the celebrations. “At one point I turned to you at the bar and said, “Will you marry me?” You laughed like you were going to have a seizure, knocked back a shot, then said, “Sure. Why not?”