Temporary Wife

by Aria Ford

  “What?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” I answered, coughing.

  Maybe it was purely an accident, but his knee moved to press against mine at that moment. I jumped. It might also have been imagination that his grin deepened. Either way, I left my knee where it was. The feel of his body alongside mine made my heart thump in my chest. He looked up at me and our gazes locked.

  He spoke.

  “What?” I asked. I hadn’t heard a word of it. My mind was elsewhere, focused on similar wild imaginings to the ones I had been thinking of last night in bed.

  He chuckled. “I asked if you could pass me the pepper, please?”

  “Oh!” I flushed, embarrassed. “Sorry. I was miles away.”

  “So was I.” He grinned. “But thanks,” he added as I passed him the pepper.

  I looked across at Parker, who was staring between us as if we had both lost our minds. I smiled. I suppose we must have seemed strange.

  “Well,” I said, looking at everyone’s plates a moment later. “It looks like we’re ready for the second course, right?”

  “You said it, partner,” he said in a fake Cowboy accent. I laughed. It was only when I was cutting up the main course that I realized it felt right to have him call me “partner”. I let out a deep breath.

  Stop getting distracted, Brooklyn. This is ridiculous. He is the handyman and you’re thanking him with a Christmas lunch you were meant to share with your aunt. It’s straightforward.

  All the same, it didn’t seem straightforward. He came over to see what I was doing and his body leaned against my back. I shivered and tensed.

  “How’s that coming on?” he asked.

  “Okay,” I said, struggling to keep my voice level. Dammit but he knew how to get to me! I was shaking, now, with pent-up desire. I finished spooning boiled vegetables onto our plates and carried my and Parker’s dinner through to the table.

  “Goody!” Parker said. “You like chicken, Mr. Riley?”

  “I do, yeah,” he said. “And this smells amazing.” He breathed in the savory steam with the air of a connoisseur. I laughed at him.

  “Well then,” I said, lifting a glass of orange juice. “Cheers!”

  “Cheers!” Parker exclaimed, clashing her glass against mine with all the force of a very small freight train. I giggled.

  “Heck, Parker, sweetie! We’re lucky these are sturdy glasses!”

  “Cheers!” she said, clicking glasses with Riley.

  “Cheers,” he replied to her, and gave me a grin. I smiled back.

  We ate in contented silence and, during the pudding, the knee came back and leaned on mine. This time I knew he meant it. He looked into my eyes, and I looked into his, and the gooseflesh started on my arms. I felt as if my loins were slowly catching fire.

  “I’m sleepy, Mommy,” Parker said at length. I nodded.

  “Me too, honey pie.” I replied. “Well, maybe you can lie down. I’m going to wash up.”

  Parker slid out of her chair, took Bluesy, and headed up the stairs.

  “See you in a minute, sweetie,” I called to her. “I’ll just finish down here first.”

  “I’m going to help,” Riley interrupted, pushing in his chair.

  “No! You’re a guest,” I protested, then laughed as he poked my shoulder.

  “And you are the best cook in the neighborhood, and I’ll not have you washing up too,” he said.

  “No, stop it, Riley,” I protested as he packed the dishes into the sink. “I’m warning you…”

  Laughing, I elbowed him out of the way and he jostled with me and soon we were both in hysterics, leaning on the sink, shoulders shaking with mirth.

  “Oh,” I said, sniffing back a tear. “I haven’t laughed like that for ages.”

  “No, me neither,” he said.

  We were very close and we were looking into each other’s eyes. He leaned forward and I leaned forward and out lips met.

  A shock of wonderment thrilled through me as his lips slid over mine. They were sweet from the dessert and they were warm and so gentle. He nibbled my lip in slow exploration. I sighed and leaned against him. His arms drew me to him, and the kiss became hungrier.

  I gasped as his tongue slid in between my lips, penetrating the gap between. I leaned against him and was surprised to find myself aching with the need for more.

  “Whoa,” I said, as he stepped back. I was panting and his breath was tight in his throat too. We looked at each other. I was hungry for him the way I had forgotten how to be hungry. My eyes were sightless with need, my body throbbing with want.

  “Oh, Brooklyn,” he murmured. “Oh, my.”

  “Now,” I said, clearing my throat, “we have to do dishes.”

  “Yes,” he agreed meekly.

  Oddly, he seemed to decide it was better just to listen, and with a respectful silence he took the plates as I rinsed them and stacked them in the dishwasher.

  “I should fix the spring in the door,” he murmured as he closed it. “It’s broken.”

  “It is,” I nodded, grimacing as I helped him to jiggle the door into place and click it closed.

  “It wouldn’t take two minutes to fix it,” he said. “I’ll do it tomorrow. Piece of…”

  “No,” I interrupted whatever he was going to say.

  “What?” he asked. His brow shot up and he looked down at me like a quizzical Disney Prince.

  “No,” I said again, more quietly this time. “I won’t let you do any more things for free around the house. This is getting silly, Riley. We’re adults.”

  “Yeah,” he chuckled. “You can say that again.”

  I closed my eyes. “Stop it, Riley. I’m serious.”

  “So am I.”

  He was very close to me and his eyes warmed my skin as if he touched me. I wanted him.

  “No. Stop it,” I said, wrenching impatiently aside. “I am a mother, Riley.”

  “I know,” he said seriously. “I respect that.”

  “You don’t seem to realize what it means,” I said quietly. “It means I can’t just go randomly hooking up with strangers. I can’t have here today, gone tomorrow arrangements. My kid needs security.”

  “I know,” Riley said. “I respect that.”

  “Well then,” I said, feeling annoyed with him but not knowing why. I bustled about the kitchen, turning my back. “You understand why we can’t…do these things.”

  “I understand,” Riley sighed. “I do.”

  “Okay,” I said. Damn it. Why was I so sad? I almost wanted him to argue the point, to say he disagreed; that we should feel free to kiss and make out in my kitchen anytime we wanted to. But of course I knew we couldn’t.

  “I respect your need to have stability for Parker,” he said softly. “But at the same time, I can offer you something. Would you…” He paused. “No. I can’t ask that. Not now. It’s complicated.”

  “Ask me, Riley,” I said woodenly. “I’m here. I’m listening.”

  “No,” he said. “I can’t ask you that now. You wouldn’t understand. I need to show you something first.”

  “Show me what?” I was curious. Part of me wanted it to be something really personal. Something along the lines of “I’ll show you mine…”. I shook my head. Stop it, Brooklyn!

  “Okay,” he said. “Want a walk?”

  “What?” I blinked.

  “I said, will you come for a short walk with me?”

  “How short? I mean…” I was already heading up the stairs to check on Parker. “I can’t leave her in the house alone, Riley.”

  “It’s not far, I promise. In fact, we can see it from here if you come into the front yard? Or onto the pavement. It’ll be minutes.”

  “Okay.” I let him step in front of me and opened the front door, and then he followed me to the street. “I’m looking.”

  “See that garage?” he asked, pointing up the road to an old cement edifice on the corner opposite.

  “Mm,” I agreed. It had stood on the
intersection between Ascot and Maine street since I could remember. I had no idea what it was or if anyone used it. It looked like a small warehouse more than a large garage, I always thought.

  “Well, I want that,” Riley said simply. I frowned at him.

  “Okay,” I agreed. “I don’t know why, but good for you,” I nodded. I was confused. Why was he showing me a warehouse? What had it to do with me?

  “Okay,” he said. He looked relieved. “Shall we go in now?”

  “Yes,” I nodded.

  We went in and I went to the kitchen, to finish tidying up. He followed me. “So,” he said. He looked at me with a questioning look, as if wanting to ask what I thought of something.

  “So?” I said. I felt myself slowly losing patience. “For Pete’s sakes, Riley,” I said. “Just tell me what this is all about. Please?”

  He sighed. “Okay. It’s…” he paused. “When I first started my business, what I really wanted was to sell cars. I know, it sounds like a weird ambition. But I love cars. I love working on them, fixing them, driving them. I…” He sighed. “Okay, that’s off topic. What I wanted to say was, I want to start my own business.”

  “Yes?” I said cautiously. “So? I think that’s a great idea. You want to rent that big building there and start a garage, or a dealership. Good for you. What’s it to do with me?”

  He sighed. “The reason I’m telling you is because…” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m pretty much broke, Brooklyn.”

  “Okay,” I said again. “So am I.”

  I had to say it—if this was some kind of weird run-up to asking me for a loan, I needed him to know that I was not exactly rolling in wealth either. Richard paid a bit each month in maintenance—not really enough to cover Parker’s school fees—and the rest I earned in my secretarial job. I didn’t have the money to lend even if I wanted to. And at this point I wasn’t really sure I wanted to.

  “Well,” he sighed. “I’m sorry to hear that, but not for myself. I’m not asking for a loan, Brooklyn. I’m asking you to be my wife.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Brooklyn

  “What?”

  I stared at him. Was he completely out of his mind? I had only just met him, for goodness’ sakes. Yes, I was attracted to him. Yes, I even wouldn’t disagree with the idea of jumping into bed with him—always assuming Parker was fast asleep and he wouldn’t expect a repeat performance. But marriage? Seriously?

  “Let me explain,” he said. To give him his credit, he had turned a funny shade of pink and he looked more embarrassed than I would have expected.

  “Okay,” I said, incredulously. “Go ahead. I challenge you.”

  He winced. “Um…it’s like this. Remember I told you I want to buy that garage?”

  “Yes…”

  “Well, I need collateral. If I want to take out a loan. I don’t have any. I rent my accommodation and I don’t have a car besides the van, which is technically the business’ van, not mine.”

  My voice is shaking. How much ruder can he actually get? “You want me to marry you so you can put my house up as collateral? So you can buy a business?”

  My voice was shrill and I knew that, but I also knew I couldn’t do anything about it. I don’t know when anything has made me feel more angry in my life. I was shivering with rage, like my whole being rebelled against the offense.

  “Brooklyn, please,” he said. He held his hands out, a placatory gesture. I wasn’t in the mood for being placated. I shot out of my chair and stood in front of him.

  “No.” I said, white with rage. “You know what? Damn you. You think you can come in here, eat my lunch, play with my kid, be all nice and friendly and then fool me into some wild plan? No way. You can get outta here.”

  He looked sad. But, weirdly enough, he didn’t argue with me. He stood. “Okay,” he sighed. “I’m going.”

  I felt a strange feeling. It was almost like a physical pain. “Wait,” I said.

  “No.” He sighed. “You’re right. What I said was stupid. I shouldn’t have said it. I’m sorry.”

  “Well, it is the craziest thing I ever heard,” I said. I wished, almost, that I didn’t think that. I wished I wasn’t so practical, that I didn’t need to be a responsible adult all the time. But I did. I couldn’t agree to this no matter how much I wanted to.

  “Well then,” he said. “I’ll go.” He picked up his coat, shrugged it on in the door. He looked so handsome and so dejected at once. His shoulders slumped and he seemed, genuinely, to regret what he’d said.

  I wasn’t going to budge on this, however. The man was clearly a shameless user. I would stick to my resolve.

  “Goodbye,” I said stiffly.

  “Goodbye.”

  I didn’t move from where I was. I stayed at the front window, looking out into the street as he walked quietly down the path to his van. I felt as if my heart had turned cold.

  I was stupid to trust him. Stupid to be open with him, even for a second. Who is he, anyway? Why would I have let him into my life like I have?

  He seemed to be taking an awful lot of time round the back of the van. I don’t know why I stayed at the window, watching him, waiting for him to leave. I should go, I told myself.

  Just then the unthinkable happened. Parker ran into the street. Parker, who I thought was upstairs sleeping. Parker, who should have been inside. The red car rounded the corner faster than anyone should go on a residential street. I screamed.

  “Parker! No! Wait!”

  I saw it in my mind’s eye: the little girl, halfway across the street as the red Ford smacked into her, sending her cartwheeling into the air over the hood. I saw the body in the street, broken beyond repair. Saw them car drive away.

  But none of it happened. Before the car was close, before Parker had stepped more than three paces into the street, Riley was there. Sprinting across the street, heedless of danger to himself, he ran, lifted my daughter, and set her on the sidewalk. The car went past a second later, with the two of them standing on the sidewalk, out of harm’s way.

  “Oh, my…” I was sobbing. I collapsed in the front door, where I was standing, helpless to do anything, and sobbed.

  Five seconds later, Riley was there. With Parker in his arms. The whole incident had been a matter of seconds, but they were seconds that changed everything for me.

  “Parker!” I began. She saw my face, white with horror, and stiffened, expecting a tirade. It never came.

  “She was just out chasing moths. Weren’t you, sweetheart?” Riley asked.

  “Yes! I thought it was a fairy, Mister Riley. But it wasn’t. It was a big moth, Mommy, with big furry wings and…”

  “Parker, baby. Don’t ever do that again.” I bent down and crushed her to my chest, drowning out any further words.

  “I’m sorry, Mommy,” she said when I had let her go. I looked into her eyes.

  “Don’t ever cross the road without me? Please. Promise me.”

  “I promise, Mommy.”

  “Good. Good, sweetheart.” I hugged her again. At that moment, I remembered the man who had saved her. I looked up. He was outside in the front yard, looking away from the door. “Riley?”

  He turned. I walked out to him.

  “Riley,” I said. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t mention it.” His voice was soft. I sighed.

  “Mister Riley saved me,” Parker put in redundantly from behind me. “He’s nice, Mommy.”

  I didn’t turn around. “Riley?” I said softly.

  “Yes?”

  “Maybe…will you come in and talk for a moment? Please?”

  He nodded.

  We went to the kitchen. Calming Parker down after the shock of the near accident was harder than I had anticipated. Even though she was barely aware of the danger, somehow the tension in me had communicated to her and she was quite wired, chattering away about moths and fairies and big red cars. It was Riley who managed to calm her down eventually.

  “Parker?”
/>   “Yes, Mister Riley?” she asked.

  “Let’s see that car you got for Christmas, eh? That’s a much better car than the one in the street. Nice and sturdy. Good suspension.”

  Parker chuckled. “Okay, Mister Riley.” She slipped out of her chair at the kitchen table and went to fetch it. After that, she seemed to feel safer again, and played in the hallway, pushing the car from one end to the other. That gave me time to talk to Riley alone. Which was what I wanted.

  “Riley?” I said, clearing my throat. Damn it, but it was hard to speak to him about this.

  “Mm?”

  “I think I am thinking…um…rethinking this proposal of yours.”

  “Brooklyn, don’t,” he said softly. “It was stupid. Forget about it.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do,” I snapped. I met his eye and we grinned at each other. “Sorry,” I said, shaking my head. I was still laughing. In some ways, we acted like we were married. How difficult would it be to put up a pretense?

  “What did you want to say?”

  “I wanted to make a proposition,” I said carefully. I avoided the word “proposal”. That was more what it was, really. A counter proposal to the proposal he’d given. “What if…no, wait.”

  “What if what?”

  “What if we did the marriage thing, but only on paper? Like, we got a document from the registry office, just so we could show the bank people. I am willing to get involved. In return, you come and live here. Keep an eye on Parker, give her the family stability she’s been craving for so long.”

  “And us?” Riley asked. His voice was warm and it made me feel good. I sighed.

  “And us stays like it is. We live our separate lives. You make your garage or whatever it is, I do my secretarial work. We live side by side. But I sleep in the bedroom and you sleep upstairs. Okay?”

  Riley blinked. He looked, if anything, mildly offended. If it hadn’t been so serious a situation, I would have laughed. I didn’t.

  “Okay,” he said.

  “Okay?” Even though it had been my idea, I wasn’t really expecting him to say yes. It surprised me.

  “Okay!” He laughed. “I agree. We’ll do this.”