Be My Wife: A BWWM Romance (Make It Marriage Book 6)

by Nia Arthurs

  “Why?” One side of his lips inches up.

  “I’m just asking.” I try to keep my voice casual. “You can always call me if you need me to make her jealous.”

  “I don’t care if she’s jealous.”

  “Why not?”

  He shrugs. “I don’t care what she thinks anymore.”

  “You’re over her?”

  “I am.”

  “Really?”

  He nods.

  I study his blue eyes.

  Test them for sincerity.

  Brogan holds my stare. I back off, relieved to see that he really has no feelings for Lana.

  Biting back my smile, I wave at him.

  Brogan lifts a hand in return.

  Skipping to the car, I climb into the backseat with Gwen. She scoots close to me. “What did Lana want?”

  “Not sure,” I mutter, my eyes glued to the tinted window as I watch Brogan get into his car.

  He presses the alarm fob.

  His car chirps.

  He stretches out a hand to open the door.

  One long leg climbs inside, followed by the other. Brogan’s shoulders bunch under his T-shirt as he grips the wheel.

  I wonder if he’s got scars on his chest.

  On his back.

  I wonder if he’d ever let me see them.

  He slept in a T-shirt last night, but I get the feeling he doesn’t usually go to sleep with clothes on.

  Maybe I’m wrong though.

  Maybe that’s just my dirty mind at work.

  “As if.” Gwen grunts. “You put her in her place, right?”

  “A little.”

  “Not a lot?”

  “I have nothing to prove to her.” I watch Brogan’s truck drive out of the lot. “Because he has nothing to prove to her.”

  Silence is Gwen’s response.

  I look over and find the older woman grinning hard.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Brogan chose a fighter, I see.”

  “No, it’s just—”

  “It’s a compliment, Elizabeth.” She leans her head back. “Lana hurt him deeply. I was afraid he’d never trust anyone again. He was so adamant—” She stops. Shakes her head. “I realize now he wasn’t trying to convince me. He was trying to convince himself.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  She gives me a side-hug. “Just know that my son loves you very much.”

  I hide my face in her shoulder, glad that she can’t see me cringe.

  Gwen is wrong.

  Brogan doesn’t love me.

  And he definitely doesn’t trust me.

  Not yet.

  Not completely.

  He wanted me to meet Lana because he wanted to prove something. He wanted me to stay out—out of his personal life, out of his business, out of his heart.

  My connection to Brogan is getting more intense, but I have to be smart about this. Maybe he’s not like the guys who only chased me so they could have sex, but he is only after me for one thing—his inheritance.

  I can’t mistake his attention as anything more than that.

  Once he gets what he wants, he’ll leave too.

  I swallow hard. “Gwen?”

  “Yes.”

  “No matter what happens, I’d like us to keep being friends.”

  “What are you talking about, honey?”

  “Can you promise me that?”

  “Of course.” She looks perplexed. “But why?”

  My phone rings.

  I glance down.

  Make It Marriage.

  “I should get this,” I whisper.

  She nods.

  “Hello?” I say into the phone.

  “She’s alive!” Venus’s cheerful voice rings through the line. “We were starting to think you were dead. I’m glad we were wrong.” She chuckles. “How are you, Elizabeth?”

  “Good.”

  “How about we schedule that meeting you’ve been dodging?”

  “I’ll get back to you on that.”

  “You sure? You won’t fall off the face of the earth again?”

  “I won’t,” I promise.

  She hangs up.

  As I pocket my phone, I notice Gwen and Gerard are deep in conversation. Hesitant to interrupt them, I remain quiet and stare out the window.

  When we get home, Gwen suggests making dinner.

  We’re setting the table and pouring the heavenly-smelling soup into bowls when Brogan arrives.

  Gwen drops the spoon she was using to stir the soup and rushes out to greet him. “Son!”

  “Hey, mom.”

  I turn.

  Find Brogan’s blue eyes on me.

  There’s something in them.

  Something that makes my heart flutter.

  I shyly lift my hand. “Hey.”

  He nods.

  Pulling my lips in, I turn away.

  “Come and eat,” Gwen says, leading him into the kitchen.

  We share a warm meal together and then Gwen wanders to the living room to watch TV.

  I clear my throat. “Venus called me today.”

  “Venus?”

  “The matchmaker.”

  “Right.” He leans back.

  “I agreed to meet with her next week.”

  “Great.”

  “Yeah.”

  Awkward silence falls between us.

  I pull my fingers together. “Brogan?”

  “Yes?”

  “If you want, I mean… this is just a suggestion, but you don’t have to sleep on the floor tonight.”

  His eyes widen.

  I cough. “Not—I don’t mean we should sleep together. Just… you don’t have to... I’m fine with you on the bed. If you stay on your side.”

  “My side.”

  I nod.

  He shakes his head. Blows out a breath. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Please?” I beg. “I’d feel better if you weren’t on the ground.” Glancing at where Gwen is watching TV, I lower my voice. “When your mom leaves, I’ll take the guest room but, for now, neither of us should suffer.”

  Brogan frowns. Hard.

  Feeling awkward, I get up, rinse my bowl and run to join Gwen in the living room.

  Brogan retreats down the hall.

  After a while, Gwen turns the TV off and yawns. Patting my knee she says, “We should head on to bed, sweetie.”

  “I’ll clean the kitchen first.”

  “No, I can do it.”

  “I insist,” I say.

  Gwen studies my face. “Alright.”

  I try to put off going to bed for as long as possible, but Gwen’s such a stickler for cleanliness that there are only a few dishes to wash anyway. After wiping down the counter a few times, I give up and head to the bedroom.

  Brogan is sitting on the bed, typing something on his laptop.

  He doesn’t watch me when I walk in.

  Taking his cue, I say nothing to him and hurry to the bathroom to change into a tank top and a comfortable pair of sleeping shorts.

  Gripping the edge of the marble sink, I stare at my flushed reflection. “Listen up, Elizabeth. This doesn’t have to be anything more than sharing a bed. Just… pretend you’re having a sleepover with Novah.”

  I blow out a deep breath.

  That tactic is falling apart by the second.

  There’s no way I can pretend Brogan is Novah.

  Not with the way I feel about him.

  I groan at my reflection. “You’re screwed.”

  Brogan knocks on the door.

  I jump.

  “You almost done in there?”

  “Yes!” I hurry and pat some water over my hair so the curls pop a bit more and then open the door.

  Brogan stands there, his toothbrush in hand.

  “It’s all yours,” I say lamely, gesturing to the bathroom.

  It’s all yours? Really, Elizabeth? Is that all you can say?

  Wincing, I climb into bed and get u
nder the covers.

  A few minutes later, Brogan steps out of the bathroom. He’s changed into a white sleeveless T-shirt that shows off his muscular arms and soft, jogging pants.

  Has he always been that hot?

  I look him over.

  He’s muscular.

  Fit.

  Big.

  “Are you sure about this?” he asks.

  I drag my eyes away from his groin. “W-what?”

  “Elizabeth…”

  “It’ll be fine.”

  He seems to think about it.

  I hold my breath until he walks over and climbs into bed.

  It’s a huge mattress.

  We’re barely touching.

  But my body is on fire.

  I gulp as Brogan takes off the lamp and the room is plunged into darkness.

  Dim moonlight creeps through the window.

  Silver rays fall over his pale skin.

  I watch Brogan settle back into his pillows. He lifts one arm to rest on his forehead and the other falls on top of the blanket. He’s staring at the ceiling.

  My teeth snag on my bottom lip.

  How can he look so… unaffected.

  I’m about to combust over here.

  Maybe I misread the signs. Maybe his intense kisses didn’t necessarily suggest he was attracted to me. I’ve been wrong about men so many times and there’s a possibility this is just another case.

  Either way, I like having him this close. Brogan can’t intimidate me with his height when we’re both lying down side-by-side.

  It’s just me and him.

  No walls.

  No growls.

  No ‘frowny-faces’.

  “Brogan?”

  He grunts.

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  “You really need my permission?”

  “No, but… it’s personal.”

  He sighs. “Of course it is.”

  I turn on my side and face him. “Your hands.”

  As expected, he stiffens.

  I push on despite his rising defense. “Can you tell me how they got burned?”

  Twenty-Three

  Brogan

  I’m in bed with my wife. The woman who stole my cold and bitter heart—a heart I thought was locked tight and impenetrable.

  She’s here.

  Lying next to me.

  So close.

  If I reach out, I can touch her.

  But I can’t.

  I won’t.

  I can only listen to her breathe.

  Smell her sweet fragrance.

  Feel the mattress dip in her direction when I move.

  She’s here, but I can’t have her.

  Not when there’s no one to fool but us.

  It’s what we agreed to.

  That freaking contract…

  It didn’t have anything about love.

  About unrequited love.

  Elizabeth didn’t sign up for that.

  So I won’t push that on her.

  But this is torture.

  Having her here is more than my self-restraint can stand. And now she wants me to unveil yet another piece of me?

  Give her more charred remnants of my heart?

  “Why do you want to know?” I ask gruffly.

  “Just… thinking about how your mom acted around Lana today. It seemed a little excessive. I got the feeling that there was more behind all that anger.” She studies my face in the shadows.

  I shut my mouth.

  Fight letting her in.

  I can’t show her that side of me.

  That fire marked a split in my life.

  There was the Brogan that lived before the accident and the one that came out of the flames.

  Elizabeth’s shoulders sag. “It’s fine. You don’t have to tell me.”

  I glance at her.

  She turns away, rolling on her other side so her back is to me.

  I look at the ceiling again. “I was partner at my old law firm.”

  Elizabeth turns back.

  “I worked long hours. Spent weeks away on business trips.” I lift a hand and brace it behind my head. “I was working to support her and Steph. I thought money would make her happy. I thought giving her the lifestyle she’d longed for would make her love me more.”

  “Oh, Brogan…”

  “Looking back, there were hints that I missed. Or I chose to ignore.” I laugh bitterly. “I thought we were in love. I never once considered—” I stop. Inhale. “One night, I came back early from a business trip. I didn’t tell Lana. I wanted to surprise her. But when I walked in…”

  I grit my teeth as the memory parades before me in sharp colors.

  Candles all around.

  Romantic music playing.

  Lana.

  Naked.

  In bed.

  Moaning.

  Panting.

  Some guy on top of her.

  Some guy that wasn’t me.

  “I grabbed the guy. We fought. There were candles. Lots of curtains. The place caught fire, but we were still fighting. All I could see was my rage. The next thing I knew, there was an explosion. Lana was trapped.”

  “You saved her.”

  “I wrapped us both in a damp sheet and got her out, but a metal pole fell on my hands while I was running down the stairs.” I lift them up to the moonlight. Watch the ugly purple scars.

  A reminder of my foolishness.

  Of my hope in something as fickle as love.

  Elizabeth reaches out.

  Dark hands.

  Soft fingers.

  Gentle touch.

  She caresses the scars.

  I hold my breath.

  It’s my first time letting someone that close.

  It’s… frightening.

  “Did it hurt?” She winces.

  “Like hell. I had to go to therapy just to regain use of my hands.” I swallow hard. “While I was in the hospital, she brought the divorce papers. Every stroke of the pen was physical agony, but I signed them, quit my job and moved out of town.”

  “But you came back.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Steph got worse.”

  “Steph gave you a purpose.”

  “I have to save her.” I meet Elizabeth’s eyes. “She’s the only good thing that came out of that marriage.”

  Elizabeth sighs sorrowfully.

  She’s still rasping her fingers over my hand.

  Still tantalizing me with her fragrance.

  Tempting me with her touch.

  Her brown eyes.

  Her body.

  I snatch her wrist.

  Feel her tremble.

  Damn.

  I’ve got to rein my desire in.

  Have to remember why I’m here.

  Why she’s here.

  That none of it is real.

  But instead of heeding the warning in my grip, Elizabeth inches closer.

  My heart lurches.

  Her head creeps onto my pillow.

  A tawny curl tickles my chin.

  Her hair smells like coconut milk and jasmine.

  Her eyes are uncertain as she stares at me.

  Neither one of us speaks.

  I don’t move.

  I just watch her.

  Part of me is urging her to come closer. The other part screams that we shouldn’t cross this line.

  Not now.

  Not ever.

  “Brogan,” Elizabeth whispers.

  I grunt.

  “What I’m feeling right now,” she sucks in a breath, “it’s not pity.”

  “What is it?” I whisper.

  “I don’t know.”

  Knots twist in my stomach.

  That’s not enough.

  I know what the hell I’m feeling.

  I know that I love her.

  Even if I wish to heaven I didn’t.

  There’s no uncertainty in me.

  “I…” she gives me a shaky s
mile. Her exploring touch moves from my hands to my face. “I want you to break the contract.”

  My breath hitches. “Elizabeth—”

  She leans over and presses her lips to mine.

  It’s a soft, uncertain kiss.

  Teeming with questions.

  With insecurity.

  About me.

  About us.

  She pulls back, giving me a tentative smile.

  I shouldn’t.

  Damn.

  This will only complicate an already complicated situation.

  But I really don’t care.

  I don’t care about anything but having Elizabeth.

  I want her under me.

  Over me.

  Buried deep in me.

  Without a word, I pull her close.

  Her kiss was unsure, but mine is ravenous. I taste her shock for a moment and then she parts her mouth, allowing me to sweep my tongue into the inside of her lip.

  Hell yes.

  She’s so sweet.

  So freaking responsive.

  Her hands slide up and down my body. I slip mine under the hem of her shirt, gripping her hips so I can balance over her to deepen the kiss.

  She cups my jaw, eagerly unleashing her passion.

  I feel myself spiraling.

  Feel the clasps of my restraint breaking free.

  Snapping.

  Waving wildly in the wind.

  I pull her hard against me.

  Release her just as rapidly so I can explore her body.

  Her thighs.

  Her shoulders.

  Her stomach.

  I let my fingers rasp beneath the strap of her tank top.

  Still kissing her soundly, I flick it away.

  The slinky material slides down to her elbow.

  Elizabeth claws at my shirt, yanking it off with far less patience. Before the fabric flutters to the ground, she plants her hands on me again. Scrubs her palm over my abs. Over my shoulders.

  I tremble beneath her touch.

  The love in my heart responds to her desire, even if it’s just physical.

  Even if that’s all she’s offering.

  I lean away, just long enough to pull her shirt off in one smooth motion.

  My breath catches in my throat as I watch her body.

  Her underwear is simple.

  Black.

  Plain cotton.

  Nothing fancy.

  Yet it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.

  She watches me with wide, innocent eyes as I wrap one hand around her leg and press the other to the small of her back. But those eyes soon fall closed as I press hot kisses to her chest.

  And then she’s squirming.

  Moaning.

  I slip my mouth off her chest.