Accidentally Married Page 9

  “Easy, easy.” Jill reached in, settling the dog and sending him into the backseat. “Say it, don’t spray it,” she muttered, using her sweater’s sleeve to wipe the steering wheel as she sat down.

  “Am I okay to get in?” Burke asked from the passenger’s side.

  “He had popcorn earlier. He probably won’t chew your face off.”

  “Reassuring.” Burke eased himself into the seat beside her. Taylor craned his neck to sniff Burke’s face before giving it a sneak-attack lick.

  “No lick,” Jill said, half expecting an innuendo from Burke.

  Taylor sighed as if he’d been hard done by with Jill’s refusal to let him maul Burke, and curled up on the backseat.

  “I need this deal with Tiffer,” Burke stated.

  And Jill needed the divorce that would surely impede his ability to close said deal. She was still hoping they could divorce before the word leaked out that she’d married on a whim and then forgotten about it. And him being in Blueberry Springs wouldn’t help her keep that secret.

  She’d asked Wini, the bank manager, to stay quiet, of course, but even with client confidentiality it was a small town where nothing remained secret for longer than about five seconds. Not even news of Amber Thompson’s—now Malone’s—adult sister had stayed quiet for that long. Although…that one had stayed under wraps for a few decades, giving Jill hope that her marriage could, too.

  “Here’s the thing,” Burke said, his palms together as he carefully chose his words. She caught a glimpse of his white shirt cuffs, which were dotted with red.

  “Are you bleeding?” She shifted in her seat to inspect his shirt, trying not to recoil. “What happened?” Taylor tried to squeeze his way between them, but Jill gave him the command to stay.

  Burke squinted at her in the dim glow of the parking lot lights. He looked at his cuffs when she pointed to them. “It’s wine.”

  Taylor tried to make his way into the front seat again and Jill opened her door, getting out, the dog scrambling to follow despite the way his large body barely fit between the two front seats. Jill quickly shut herself in the car again, gaining a loud woof! from her betrayed four-legged friend.

  “Someone threw wine at you?” she asked.

  Burke didn’t say anything, just scratched his forehead.

  “Who was she?”

  Taylor hefted his front paws onto the window beside Jill. He whined, then lowered himself, claws scraping against the vehicle’s paint. “Seriously, dog.”

  “He’s like my kitten.”

  “You have a kitten as well as a girlfriend? I didn’t picture that.”

  “Of course I have a kitten. Who doesn’t enjoy having their home destroyed while they’re out? And as for the girlfriend? If I had one, she’d likely do the same if she found out I’ve been married for the past several months.”

  When it looked like Taylor was going to jump up again, Jill opened the door once more, letting the chilly breeze into their warm haven. The dog nudged his head under her arm, pressing close to her side.

  “I need to seal this deal with Tiffer,” Burke was saying. “I also need to remain married to you in order to do so.” He let out a defeated sigh. “I’ve tried, but I honestly can’t see any other way.”

  “I don’t want to stay married. No offense.”

  “My plan—”

  “If it involves staying married or telling people, then I’m out. I’m signing those papers as soon as they’re ready next week.”

  Burke slumped in his seat, staring out the windshield, his large hands resting loosely in his lap. Peeking out from under the edge of his right cuff was a black mark. A black mark that looked a lot like the one under Jill’s two-inch-wide leather bracelet.

  “What’s that?” she asked quietly, her heart pounding.

  Burke glanced over to see what she was referring to. He turned his right wrist upward, then slipped the cuff over the mark. “Nothing.”

  Jill slowly unsnapped the bracelet covering her left wrist, feeling a cascade of chills running down her spine. She revealed the inch-long apostrophe that was at the edge of her wrist, mirroring Burke’s.

  He stared at it, his expression unreadable.

  “When did you get that?” he finally asked, clearing his throat.

  “Woke up with it.” Almost a year ago. Her heart was pounding so hard she could feel it all the way down to her toes. “And you?”

  His eyes met hers in the dim light, and the gravity of that night hit her once again. “Same.”

  “What do you think it means?”

  Burke shrugged.

  He had his hand out in front of him, the sleeve pushed up now. His tattoo was off-centered as well. His to the left, where hers was to the right. She reached across the cab, lining her wrist against his. When holding hands, their tattoos fitted together, forming a heart.

  Burke couldn’t stop staring at their matching, interlinked ink. His comma or apostrophe or whatever it was met with Jill’s, forming a heart. A freaking heart.

  Maggie’s words circled in his mind. You were always a romantic.

  This tattoo was definitely something a romantic would get. A drunk one who’d lost his mind.

  Normally it causes you to throw too much into it or chase off after the wrong women.

  He’d thrown too much into this one, obviously. Marriage and matching tattoos. But why?

  Was Maggie right about him? Did he put too much into the wrong kind of relationship, or else kept it loose and easy so it would never become anything real?

  “Are these supposed to be ironic?” he asked, covering his tattoo again, his voice tight with an emotion he couldn’t identify. He had a feeling the tattoos were an in-joke neither of them remembered.

  He was never drinking again. At least not enough to mess with his memory. Or judgment.

  Jill let out a derisive snort. “I think couples’ tattoos are a bit…”

  “Tacky? Cheesy?”

  “Yeah. They’re like matching jackets. We all know you’re together, you don’t have to be matchy-matchy.”

  “Do I detect bitterness?”

  “There’s no need to show off that you found your partner.” She gestured to his tattoo. “Why do you still have yours?”

  “My assistant refuses to make the appointment for me to get it lasered off. He’s a lit major and likes that I have punctuation permanently inked on me.”

  “Ah. And you’re so special and spoiled you can’t make the appointment yourself?”

  “You still have yours,” he pointed out. “You like it?”

  She didn’t reply, just snapped the leather bracelet back over it, and for some reason, it bothered him that she felt the need to hide it. Not that he tended to flaunt his own.

  “Then let’s get them removed together. It’ll be like a divorce party. A divorce present.”

  Her lips curved upward, but she said nothing.

  “No?” he asked.

  “We are getting divorced, but let’s skip the parting gift. I can pay to get it done on my own.”

  “I wasn’t offering to pay.”

  She was petting her dog, which was sitting outside, head resting in Jill’s lap. “We can’t stay married,” she said. “You do know that, right?”

  For the first time Burke considered the fact that she might have a love life that didn’t jive with her being married. “Does he know?”

  “Who?” She looked down at her dog with a frown. “I don’t think dogs—”

  “No, I mean your boyfriend.” Wow. It felt awkward saying that.

  “My boyfriend?” She was giving him a look, and he really hoped she’d say she didn’t have one.

  “You could be in a serious relationship for all I know. I didn’t want to sound like I was trying to pick you up.”

  She laughed. “Well, I am in a relationship.” She said it quickly, authoritatively, and he wasn’t sure whether to believe her or not. “We share a bed and care for each other deeply. We like long walks through the m
eadow and spend weekends together. He’s always waiting for me when I get off work because he clears his schedule for me. He’s very devoted.”

  “You’re talking about your dog, aren’t you?”

  Her eyes twinkled.

  “Okay, so you’re not in a serious relationship with a human,” he clarified. “So why can’t we stay married? Just until we get what we want.”

  “And what do we want?” There was a huskiness, a hunger skimming the surface of her words like a water beetle dancing over the water.

  He had to have imagined that.

  “To resolve all of our mistakes, fill the potholes and come out ahead,” he said uncertainly.

  Did that even make any sense?

  Jill let out a heavy sigh. “Marriage isn’t going to solve anything in my life. Quite the opposite.” She got out and opened the rear door, letting Taylor back inside the vehicle.

  She wanted out of this marriage, something Burke knew he should respect. He’d dodged a bullet with Autumn tonight, but he might not a second time. And with Autumn, there was certain to be a second approach. Especially with her father getting tired of supporting her.

  A quiet divorce would likely protect him and his reputation. And the fact that he was trying to hold on to Jill made him wonder if it was due to some messed-up reason he didn’t fully understand. A reason Maggie did.

  “What can I do to make this work?” he found himself asking.

  He felt old emotions clamp down on his lungs. He’d said the same exact thing to Neila the first time he’d seen her after the Dear John letter.

  She’d laughed. Told him he couldn’t charm his way out of it. She needed someone who was capable of loving her, and he was never around, so how did he think that was going to work?

  He’d replied that if she loved him she’d support him. He was making something of himself and creating a business, a life for them.

  She’d laughed at that, too.

  Jill got back into the driver’s seat, her dog secured. She studied Burke for a moment before saying, “You want to make this work?”

  “Not in a romantic sense, but there are benefits to us remaining married.” He thought of how Tiffer’s smirk had smarted, all the way across the restaurant earlier. Meeting up with Autumn may have ruined everything. But showing up at the Metro Conference with a strong-looking marriage could possibly save it.

  Somehow.

  Either way, getting divorced certainly wouldn’t alleviate the problems that were currently cinching him to the proverbial railway tracks.

  “You want to make this work?” Jill repeated. She leaned closer, her body almost touching his shoulder.

  He nodded.

  “Then become someone else.” She shifted back in her seat and started the engine.

  “Besides that,” he said sharply, redirecting a vent that blew cold air in his face.

  “Besides becoming the man of my dreams?”

  “Oh, how you wound me, my lovely wife.” He’d meant the comment to be flippant, offhand, but it came out cutting.

  “I’m divorcing you. Getting married was a mistake, and I’m not going to let it grow into a bigger one by dragging things out.”

  He knew if he got out of her car, it was over. Done. It didn’t matter that they’d had some laughs, some moments. “I have a proposal you’ll want to say yes to.”

  “Just because I said yes to the last one doesn’t mean I will again.”

  “We’re good together.”

  “If you were outside right now, I’d be trying to run you over. It’s difficult to do that when you’re sitting beside me. Please get out.”

  In the backseat, Taylor let out a sigh, impatient to go.

  “What if I helped you?” Burke insisted. He knew she was eager to grow her botanicals business. He’d said no to her first proposal, but that was a different time, where helping her grow wasn’t what he needed—wasn’t what he had time for. Now anything that could bring in cash and ensure she paid back her loan—and quickly—was worth a shot. Anything that could help him prove to potential investors that STH was stable, and looking for other ways to diversify, strengthen and grow.

  He felt that if he and Jill were married he’d have more control over how things went down. It was a tie to bind them, another layer of commitment, so she couldn’t pull out and leave him high and dry on a whim.

  “Remember that business proposal you brought to me at the Metro Conference?”

  “The one you said no to? The one where I’m too small and insignificant, with no vision and no potential for exponential growth?”

  He winced. “I didn’t say that.”

  “And now you’ve changed your mind because we’re married?” She was cynical, pragmatic, and even though it was making his life difficult, he found he appreciated that about her. She wasn’t going to get taken by a con man, that was for certain. “What’s your angle?”

  “You want to expand your business. I want to expand mine. I need to establish diversity and stability. You could be part of that.”

  “I don’t mix business and pleasure.” She looked scared.

  “It won’t be like that. Just say yes.”

  “Does it matter what I want? Does it matter that I don’t want a husband I don’t recall marrying?” Her voice was high now, panicked. She yanked off her bracelet again. “What if I don’t want this embarrassing tattoo, but I’m too scared it’s going to hurt having it removed? What if I need to spend the money somewhere smarter than tattoo removal and divorcing you? Have you thought of that? Have you thought past yourself and considered the wake of destruction you’ve left in my life?”

  Burke sat back. He hadn’t.

  “We make mistakes when we’re together. We do crazy stuff like making out in the middle of a restaurant, and you blow up my five-year plan with an exhale and a wink.”

  He knew that feeling. He had a plan, then she walked in and everything skewed. He still wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or not. But that restaurant kiss had been a real head-turner. And not just for those observing them, but for himself, too. He’d never kissed or been kissed like that before. Ever.

  Jill continued, “I’m not that person and I don’t want to be that person. I’ve made promises to people and I lose control when I’m around you, but that can’t happen. I can’t miss reaching my goals. Not this time.”

  “You lose control?” Burke asked softly.

  “Restaurant, Burke,” she snapped. “Tattoo. Marriage. The list isn’t getting shorter. I don’t have the time or energy or resources or knowledge to expand at the rate you want to.” Her voice was small, her gaze way too focused on her wrist. “I can’t.”

  “Are you afraid of failing?” He could help ensure that she didn’t.

  “I’m not ready. It’s not what I want.”

  “But you took out a loan so you could. Did you lie to the bank?”

  “Burke, let it go.” Her voice was thick, as if she was fighting tears.

  “I can’t. It’s my money, and what you’re saying and doing doesn’t line up.”

  Her dog was pushing his head between the seats, nuzzling Jill’s arm.

  “Let me help your business,” he said. “It won’t fail. I promise. We’ll grow it. You’ll reach your goals and pay back the loan in record time.” And create another revenue stream he could present to his potential partners. If they were married it tied them together on another level, making everything that much more secure for him.

  “I’m not afraid of failure.” She wouldn’t meet his gaze. “I’ve started working for Emma Carrington since then, and so I’ve created a more gradual growth plan.”

  The vehicle was silent other than the sound of the dog panting.

  “Did you know I live in fear every day?” he said. “You know how many employees count on me for their livelihoods?”

  He waited for her to speak, but she didn’t.

  “Twenty-five in my office alone. My financial advisor is about to have a baby. The marketing manag
er’s son needs major medical care. They count on me. Ralph’s just about at retirement. Gulliver finally bought a house.” Burke let out a sigh. “I can’t let them down and I won’t. It’s not an option. And I won’t let you down, either.”

  “So you think selling copious amounts of my products on your site is going to save everything?”

  “Yes.” That had been her ambitious proposal. She would use his platform. He’d take a nice share of the profits. He’d known then that her business was too small to keep up, but that was before he’d decided to step in and take control. He’d hire someone if need be. He just had to show that viable income and growth to potential future partners.

  She shook her head and started the engine. “When?”

  “I want all of this established as soon as possible so I can have contracts in place with potential partners to cover Tiffer’s fee.”

  “That’s two months,” she said in disbelief.

  “I know there’s a lot to do, and I’m not saying we’re creating a money miracle. I just have to be able to prove to investors that we’re able to make it work, and that there’s strong potential in us working together.”

  “There’s a lot to do…”

  Add her items to the website, boost her production. Boom. Done.

  “It’s feasible. When I know what I need to do, I can move fast.”

  “Would it really work?” She was tempted. Time to close the deal.

  “It will,” he said.

  “You paused.”

  “I know how much we need to sell to get that loan paid off. It’s not beyond the realm of reality to cut your five-year plan down significantly with the right kind of platform and marketing. And I can provide that.”

  “I have a full-time job.” Her expression was pinched again.

  “I’m an expert in this area.”

  “An expert on the brink of losing everything. Do you really think it’s wise to take a risk right now?”

  His heart was pounding, but he knew the right answer. Knew the truth he had to live by. “Would you rather try and fail, or would you rather die knowing you could have maybe done something? Could have possibly made it all work out if you’d just stepped outside your fear and tried?”