Page 25 of A Package Deal

She chewed her bottom lip, but didn’t argue. We said the vows and the rings slid onto our fingers, mine a plain gold band, Em’s fitting perfectly.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the judge said with a smile. “You may kiss your bride, son.”

Em’s eyes went wide, clearly not having thought through this eventuality, but I had. Shit, I’d tried hard not to think about it as I lay in bed last night instead of sleeping.

I slid an arm around her waist and carefully cupped her jaw, keeping my touch light. What I really wanted to do was haul her against me and dip her over my arm in a bruising kiss, but I also didn’t want her to stab me with the pointy heel of her shoe. I lowered my head and grazed the side of her jaw with my lips.

“Just once, wife,” I murmured, right before I claimed her mouth, our lips fused together as my heart pounded. Em was as stiff as a board for a long moment, and then a miracle happened. Her muscles released and her lips softened, just a touch. Just enough to make the kiss believable and have me wondering if I dared flick my tongue against her lip, right where she had that small scar, demanding entrance to a place I had no business being.

I moved my lips, about to press my luck when her fingers, on the hand that had flown to my bicep when I held her, pinched the hell out of my arm. With a yelp, I lifted my head and glared at her. The she-devil had the nerve to smile at me. Her cheeks, hotter than the afternoon sun, had me hoping there was more to this moment than just make-believe for the judge’s sake. I didn’t want to be the only one in this marriage wanting to recreate that kiss when there were fewer observers.

Wendy clapped and handed Em her flowers, breaking the moment. My wife tried to walk out of the judge’s chambers without me, so I hooked my arm around her waist and hauled her to my side. The little vixen let out a squeak of surprise.

“Let’s go get your stuff and move you into the house, my darling wife,” I drawled, letting her see the promise in my eyes.

She’d pay for pinching me.

And not in the way she thought.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Emmerleigh

Flipping down the visor in Warrick’s ridiculous truck, I tried to clean up the mess he’d made of my lip gloss. I was foolish to believe anyone would be looking at the slight smear of sparkly pink when my cheeks were beacons the color of Blueball’s fire engines. I couldn’t help it. I was overwhelmed and out of control, a feeling I loathed more than anything else. The dress was so beautiful I nearly cried when I slipped it on. The ring weighed down my finger with its perfection. The kiss had struck some nerve deep within my core and felt anything but innocent. Even Warrick manhandling me out of the courthouse and into his giant truck had me grasping for some sense of sanity. The man had twenty hands and they were all on me.

And I wasn’t turned off by those hands like I should be. That was the most dangerous part of all.

Warrick slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine, reaching to turn up the fan on the air-conditioning. Good. That should help my cheeks. Perhaps I was just overheated, a lie I grabbed on to with both hands. I could feel him gazing at me. Could still feel the imprint of his lips and the way his fingers had tightened on me mid-kiss like he knew I was going to dart away from him the first chance I got.

I snapped the visor back up and folded my hands in my lap to keep them from shaking. “Well, I should get back to the jobsite.”

“Hey.”

The quiet rasp had me finally turning to look at him. Warrick. My husband.

His handsome face was marked by kind eyes. His entire presence, the broad shoulders, the trim waist, the expensive suit with tattoos peeking out from behind the cuffs, even the goddamn boots, were overwhelming in the small space of the truck. He sucked the oxygen right out of my lungs simply by looking at me.

“Let’s go back to your place and get the last of your belongings. That way it’ll be done when we pick up Georgia this afternoon.”

We. When we pick up Georgia.

Something acutely painful hit my chest. How long had I begged for a man in my life to use those words? To know I had a partner? Someone I could rely on? And here he was in the flesh, a stubborn, annoying, rich client who dirtied his expensive jeans like money was no object. He hadn’t even married me for real, and yet he was the most supportive man I’d ever had in my life.

What a fucked-up, pathetic situation my life had become.

I nodded, because what choice did I have? Warrick would do what Warrick wanted to do. That’s what all men did. So for today, I’d let him. I wouldn’t even put up a fight. I’d use this man like other men had used me. While he drove us out of downtown Blueball, I tried not to let a cloak of shame settle on my shoulders. Fact was, I was better than Cayden. I couldn’t use Warrick like that, but I would let him help me for Georgia’s sake. And I’d work like a madwoman to get his mother’s house finished for him. That way, we’d be even. Or as even as this single mama could make things.

Warrick didn’t allow me out of the truck while he loaded up the last of the boxes. He took off his suit jacket and left it folded on the console between us, taking a moment to roll up his sleeves before he climbed out into the midday heat. I looked away when I realized even his forearms were attractive. After he was done and looking a bit sweaty, he took the keys from me and left them on the kitchen counter, texting my landlord that we were out. Then he headed back to his mother’s house without a word.

A disagreeable grunt had me freezing with my hands on the door of the truck. I rolled my eyes, but Warrick ignored me. He came around the truck and opened my door, his arm hooking around my waist and pulling me from the vehicle like it was effortless. Pip, sitting on the front porch eating another tuna fish sandwich and swigging a German beer, let out a whistle.

“That is one way to deal with your life mess. I like my way better.”

“Don’t start,” I grumbled, walking up the stairs carefully in my heels. Warrick’s warm hand hadn’t left the small of my back.

Pip held up her beer, a raspy chuckle coming from her wide face. “Ya make a fine bride, Ms. Em!”

“Mrs. Wolfe,” Warrick growled before I could explain the situation to my subcontractor. I glared over my shoulder at him, but he just pushed me closer to the front door. “You have the rest of the afternoon off, Pip.”

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