Illegally Wedded

by Jennifer Griffith

  “What’s that dream? You already own your own restaurant—on the Riverwalk, no less. I can’t think of a better dream for a chef.”

  Well, when he put it that way—yes. She was for sure living her dream. But to make it complete, she still desperately wanted the Texas Star. It would just prove that all her work and effort didn’t arise from her being delusional about her cooking skills. Why she needed that validation, when she had it from customers every day, she didn’t know. And she didn’t really care.

  “Have you heard of Texas Foodie Magazine?”

  “I think so. Don’t they do all the reviews? I see their plaques hanging in restaurants now and then.”

  Even Zach Travis knew about it, and he wasn’t necessarily even a foodie.

  “They send critics to a restaurant that’s been able to keep itself open a full year. Wow the critic and get a Texas Star. They give three a year.”

  “Du Jour is up for one? That’s great. But what’s not great is that you’ve been open that long and I’ve only recently discovered the place.”

  “See? We need more visibility. Hence the billboards. With my face, unfortunately.” Piper groaned and rubbed her eyes. “More strands in the cable that bind me to San Antonio, more reasons why I can’t leave. If I go, Du Jour dies, Mitzi and her whole family are up a creek.” A tear stung Piper’s eye. “We’re expecting the critic soon. Twenty days from now is our one year anniversary.”

  “Twenty days from now is also the deadline on your immigration claim.”

  Piper knew that better than anyone else. It haunted her constantly. “Cruel coincidence for everyone.”

  The parasail started descending. They were being reeled back to the deck of the boat.

  As they descended, Piper braced herself for impact, grateful that Zach had listened without scoffing at Mitzi’s parents for their lack of wisdom putting all their savings into as risky an investment as a new restaurant. Not only that, he hadn’t declared Du Jour, or Piper, a bad risk—even though she was. Zach hadn’t judged, at least not aloud.

  She appreciated that small kindness. Accountant Chad wouldn’t have taken it so well. She could hear his rant now—all about investment portfolios and diversification of risk. Blah, blah, blah. While she writhed in worry when she thought of the foolishness of Mitzi’s parents, she also couldn’t help but feel their ultimate love from their sacrifice and kindness and their faith in her.

  She couldn’t fail them. She had to earn the Texas Star and keep Du Jour open, and in order to do that she had to stay in the United States. She’d have to do whatever it took—even if it meant doing the most convincing (to Valentine) but unexpected (to Zach) thing.

  We’re married. It’s not wrong. In fact, it’s right. It was part of our vows. I promised God I would fulfill the duties of a wife. I promised Zach. There were witnesses. Her mouth went dry when she thought about all the broken promises. I shouldn’t break them anymore.

  Her heart was pounding.

  But all my life I’ve had this idea of only ever being with one man. Is Zach that one?

  Piper’s soul was ripping in two.

  “Should we go back and check into the hotel now?” It was past three. She ignored the shaking of her fingers as she handed off her harness to the attendant.

  “So soon?” Zach asked. “What about dinner?”

  “Isn’t there room service?” Her voice trembled. She didn’t know what she was going to do next. “Maybe it’s time. For us.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Zach stared for a second at Piper. He didn’t know exactly what her words were implying. But he could guess. He could hope.

  And hope he did.

  He put her in a taxi, and they headed to the hotel he’d had Cora book for them, the nicest one on the island that still had a room available at last-minute notice. They’d been given a room at the end of the wing, a room with two balconies looking out over the beach’s sand and gorgeous waves.

  And he hated himself for it.

  Piper Quinn was the most incredible woman he’d met, ever, hands down. He wanted her with a fire in his belly. By all rights, she was his to take—except that he had given his word to her that he wouldn’t.

  To deserve her, he’d keep his word.

  “You have anything in particular in mind for dinner?” When she didn’t answer but looked lost in thought, as they rode up the elevator to the eighth floor, he said, “I’ll just surprise you.”

  “I like your surprises,” she responded, albeit absently. He allowed himself to trace a finger over a bronzed shoulder. She really was spectacular.

  But she was more than a pretty face. Pretty faces were a dollar a dozen in his world. Add to it a person who worried more about her friend’s parents’ retirement nest egg than her own well-being. Add it to the fact Piper had pinpointed how to reach Dad’s suffering soul; her Tacos of Wonder had acted like an emotional defibrillator, getting Dad to express for the first time why he’d allowed the Double Bar T Ranch to fall into disrepair. How had Zach never known this? How had he never simply asked? And then, in walked Piper Quinn, with her mystical food, and suddenly Dad was an open book. Now Zach could start helping him figure out how to get past all that, thanks to Piper.

  Yeah, Zach had more than a pretty—even spectacular-looking—girl on his arm today.

  He had something priceless.

  A wise man didn’t trifle with priceless—no matter how much it was his right to do so.

  ∞∞∞

  Over the splashing of the shower, Piper could hear Zach’s deep voice ordering room service in Spanish. The hot water peeled the salt of the ocean from her skin, and let the sand go silting off her and down the drain.

  She was married. She was a married woman. She’d said I do—before God and witnesses. She’d promised things—to God, and to Zach, whether or not there’d been a proverbial “crossing of fingers behind the back” while they’d done it.

  Crossing fingers didn’t actually insulate a person against a lie.

  The hot water soothed her muscles and the steam clarified her thinking.

  Piper had said things, sworn to them. She’d even signed her name to official documents of the state of Texas declaring she now belonged to Zach Travis as his wedded wife.

  The promise to Chad had come first, yes, but in the hierarchy of promises, how did a prior promise to be faithful made in a nebulous way to a man who left her and went to parts unknown with no promise of further contact, let alone commitment, constitute a higher promise than one she’d made to God and man and the government on a sworn and signed document?

  Chronology—did it matter?

  If it weren’t so personally involving him, she’d ask her lawyer.

  Then again, maybe she should. Up to now, Zach Travis had continually astonished her with his understanding and his level head whenever she’d divulged the worries of her heart to him. From the immigration to the fact she was a virgin to the details of Mitzi’s parents’ financial devastation if Piper were to be deported—he’d taken all of it in stride. He’d responded with compassion and wisdom. He hadn’t judged; instead, he’d reasoned out ways to solve the problems and made decisive moves, even at considerable risk to himself.

  Zach Travis was one in a million—maybe one in a hundred million. She couldn’t tell precisely, as she hadn’t met a hundred million men, but she did know there wasn’t anyone else like him. Probably not even in a hobbit colony.

  And he deserved her devotion. All of it.

  “Room service is here.” A soft knock came on the door. Had she been in the hot spray for that long? Usually she lived in apartments with hot water supplies limited enough she could never shower longer than five or ten minutes maximum. Cold water signaled the end of bath time.

  “Just a second.” She shut off the taps, her hands still shaking as badly as when she’d undone her clasps at the parasailing activity. Something trembled inside her, like she might be making either the best or the worst decision of her life.

/>   One towel wrapped around her body, one around her hair, she emerged from the bathroom to look for the bag of clothing they’d bought at the market today.

  Zach caught sight of her and set down his phone immediately. “Hey.”

  “I should have taken clothes in with me.”

  “No, no. It’s fine.” He jumped to his feet. “Can I help you with that?” His eyes grazed the towel.

  She tiptoed across the Spanish tile on the floor. “I think I’ll wear the blue dress.”

  “Or the blue one.” Zach said, digging in one of the bags. “Or the blue one.” He tossed her a sarong, the one that twisted at the waist and tied around the back of her neck. It was silky soft, and she took it, rubbing the fabric between her fingertips.

  “Dinner smells great.” Small talk felt so hollow when she had so many universe-shaking decisions on her mind.

  “It’s not going to be as good as your food. You make a mean taco.”

  “I’ll get dressed, and then I want your opinion on something.” The dress shook in her hands as she slid it over herself in the bathroom, tying it just right, shaking out her long hair. She didn’t bring any makeup along. There was no time. It had all washed off in the ocean, and all that remained was Piper.

  Just me.

  Add that to the fact the dress covered her, but the fabric was so fine, she felt exposed.

  Just me.

  “I hope you like fish.” Zach spoke to her from the other room as she stared at herself in the mirror. Zach Travis. He was a good man. He loved his family. He cared about her. He—

  She could stand here trying to work it out mentally all day, but her brain would run out of fuel. She’d been going through these machinations ever since she’d laid eyes on Zach Travis, ever since he put this gorgeous stone on her finger, ever since he offered to be her protector and her defense.

  “I do. I like a lot of things.” Piper came out of the bathroom, and instead of going to the table where Zach sat ready to eat, she went and stood beside him, crouching down, and placing a whisper in his ear. “I like you, too.”

  Zach looked up in surprise.

  “You said you needed my opinion on something. If it’s the dress, a resounding yes.” His eyes crawled over her, but she liked it.

  “I’m glad you like it. You chose it, after all.”

  “It chose you.” Zach stood. Dinner fell away from their attention. “You really are the most stunning—”

  His kiss dropped tender on her mouth, like rain. Piper’s dilemma clung to her, blocking her from giving every ounce of the emotion she was starting to feel for Zach Travis, her husband.

  “Just five minutes for now.” She hesitated but let his lips caress hers.

  “Uh-huh,” he said, his voice soft, enticing.

  The phone rang.

  “Shut it off,” Zach said, tossing it to her. “It can wait five minutes.”

  “But it’s already been three.” She hadn’t really been watching the minutes. It might have been an hour.

  “The phone made us restart the clock.”

  She shut it off, but it rang again, silently this time, just a glow to signal the call from Mitzi’s number. Piper shut her eyes, sank back into Zach’s caresses, but when she opened them again a few minutes later, it was glowing again.

  “Our time isn’t up.” Zach had his fingers in her hair. “I’m resetting every time she calls.”

  “I might pay her to keep calling every five minutes for the next several hours.”

  “Whatever you offer, I’ll pay double.”

  Piper let him kiss her a couple of times more, but her conscience rattled.

  “I can’t ignore her. She’d never interrupt if it weren’t an emergency. Especially not on a weekend.” Weekends were sacred. They’d agreed. Piper tore herself away from Zach’s embrace and he sat down with a flop on the chair near their now-cold seafood dinner.

  “Mitzi? Everything all right? Did you finally find out what his job is?” Her mystery man from YourMatch.com might be worthy of an emergency call.

  “No! I mean, not yet and yes, I’m with him right now. Did I tell you he used to cook professionally, back a few years ago? He had to quit when he got injured in a wreck so that ended that career. You of all people know how terrible it is to be standing all day in a kitchen—murder on the back. But no, that’s not the reason I’m calling. Hello. This is the weekend.”

  Mitzi had met him in person. Wow. But that couldn’t be the situation here, not the multiple calls.

  “We’re in Puerto Rico. What’s going on? Is there an emergency?”

  “Puerto Rico! As in the island? Should you be doing that, considering… leaving the country, et cetera…? No, Glade, she’s not a wanted criminal. Geez.” Mitzi must really like the guy. She was giddy and tangential, and Mitzi never got giddy or tangential. “The reason I’m calling is you had a woman stop by Du Jour.”

  Not Agent Valentine! She’d crossed over to harassing Piper’s coworkers now? Piper’s stomach lurched, empty though it was, when she pictured the blood-red nails.

  “That woman from ICE?”

  “No, that sweet old neighbor lady of yours.”

  “Birdie?” Piper could imagine fifty emergencies with Birdie at her age, despite her spry health. “Is she all right? She’s not in trouble, is she?” Piper would commandeer a ship to get back to San Antonio immediately if Birdie was in trouble.

  “She dropped off some things, saying they looked urgent.” Mitzi’s voice faltered. “I’m afraid they do look urgent. So—I opened one.”

  She’d opened Piper’s mail. “And?”

  “And the court date is in one of them. For your immigration hearing.”

  “Okay.” It couldn’t be that soon. It’d only been ten days since she’d received the original notice. “And the emergency is?”

  “A week from Monday. Ten days out. Or nine, since it’s afternoon now. It’s in the morning.”

  “Ten days! That has to be a mistake. It said I had thirty days.”

  Zach was at Piper’s side. “What’s going on?” He slid his arm around her waist, fingering her hip. “You’ve got a court date?”

  “It’s sooner than I thought.” The words came out hoarse. “Thanks, Mitzi. That’s a good heads-up.” Piper’s heartbeat now morphed into a ticking clock, counting down the days remaining—cut in half from what she’d thought this morning.

  “But that’s not the emergency. That news could wait until Monday morning.”

  “There’s more?” Piper gulped.

  “I heard from Texas Foodie. They want a meal service tomorrow afternoon. I’ll tell them you’re on your honeymoon if you want.”

  “No!” Piper clutched at her throat. “No. We can’t take that chance.” She couldn’t let anything stand in the way of their award. Mitzi and her parents had too much on the line.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The jet could not fly fast enough. Piper bounced up and down in the seat beside Zach, and he didn’t mind that effect, but he’d much rather this ride had been an instant replay of their flight last night instead of this nervous fit.

  “It’s going to be all right, Piper.”

  “They’re coming tomorrow. Why didn’t Mitzi tell them we’re closed on Sundays?” She wrung her hands, and Zach’s heart along with it. She was a mess. “Of course, she couldn’t tell them that. An owner of a fledgling restaurant doesn’t simply tell Texas Foodie Magazine to come back another day.”

  He reached around her, and she stopped bouncing. “You’ll do fine,” he said. “I mean, it might look strange if we come back from our honeymoon a day or two early, but we’ll just explain that we’re professionals and work comes first.”

  Piper didn’t like the sound of that, but she also didn’t like the terrorized butterflies at war in her stomach.

  “I have no food in the fridge at Du Jour. The farmer’s market is closed on Sunday mornings, and even if it was open, I’d hate to shop there on Sunday. I think Sundays are for chu
rch, and—”

  It went on like this for another several minutes until Zach checked the time. “Come here.” He pulled her to him, pressing her legs across his lap and encircling her in his arms. “It’s going to be all right. Unless you don’t sleep. If you don’t sleep, then you’ll make rookie errors.”

  Zach knew a lot about sleeplessness errors. He’d pulled far too many all-nighters in law school and in his first couple of years as an associate at Crockett, Bowie and Houston. In fact, he’d pulled several this calendar year.

  “I guess you know how little sleep I got last night, too.” Piper moaned.

  “Yeah, I was there.” He didn’t apologize.

  “It wasn’t all your fault. I was a culprit there, too, you know.”

  “I wasn’t assigning blame. I was taking credit.”

  “Zach!” Her tension had broken a little.

  “Here.” He petted the long strands of her hair down her back. “I’ll tell you a story. Will that help you sleep?”

  Piper’s nervous knee-bouncing stopped.

  “You’d do that for me?”

  Uh, Zach would do almost anything for her.

  “Once upon a time…” He made up some stuff about a pretty girl who loved to cook, making it fanciful and—he thought—a little funny. Piper gave it some courtesy laughs now and then. After a few minutes, she was breathing softly and had relaxed in his arms, her head against his chest.

  Zach put his feet up on the coffee table for balance, and then leaned his head back against the cushion of the bench seat of the CBH jet. This wasn’t how every man dreamed of spending his honeymoon, but in Zach’s case, maybe this was the best he could have hoped for—the world’s prettiest and best girl asleep in his arms.

  He could do worse.

  And when they landed, he saw worse incarnate.

  ∞∞∞

  “What’s going on?” Piper rubbed her eyes. She was still in the blue dress from last night when they’d fled the hotel at her insistence. Zach Travis, bless his heart, had been a good sport about having all his weekend plans cut short.