Illegally Wedded

by Jennifer Griffith

  “Your Texas Star means a lot to you. Let’s go.”

  It did mean a lot to her. It could save Du Jour, even if it ended up that Piper’s plea for clemency got rejected. Merely advertising that they’d received a Texas Star could mean keeping the place going, at least until Mitzi found another chef with Piper’s skill of making a new meal every single day of business.

  Getting that could be her parting help, a last ditch effort to save the restaurant if she still got deported.

  But Piper knew wanting it was one thing; winning it was another entirely.

  Today she’d be feeding the critics something she’d never served before—because repeating, even if they’d never had it before, even if it was the far safer course, would defeat the whole theory behind Du Jour.

  But heck if she could think of anything to serve right now. Her head was far too full of island waves and too-long make-outs and tempting musculature of Zach Travis to think of a single meal.

  Waking up beside him this morning, in his arms, was the sweetest, most comforting thing she could imagine. Piper had fallen asleep to the soothing but hilarious story he told her about the pretty chef’s antics with the cute little sidekick puppy. Just when anxiety told her nothing on earth could let her sleep, Zach had put some kind of magical sleeping spell on her, and cured everything.

  However, in the light of day, she was conflicted to the point of being torn in two about her feelings for Zach. On one hand, she was super relieved that the call to get back to San Antonio had come in, which prevented her from going somewhere physically with Zach she’d determined not to go. On the other hand, his restraint and kindness and thoughtful effort on her behalf tugged her deeper into an abyss she now saw as her feelings for him—an abyss so deep that soon she wouldn’t see the light above her.

  The biggest problem was not knowing: for him, was this still all a business arrangement? At every turn he acted a hundred percent sincere. But was that part of his personality? She wasn’t sure whether she could trust that he was for real. He did seem too good to be true; but that fact alone couldn’t hold back the tidal wave of affection and desire she was feeling for Zach Travis, her husband.

  Before, she’d at least been obeying the spirit of the law in keeping her promise to Chad, if not the letter. Because marrying someone else certainly had to go against the letter of the law if anything did. Nevertheless, she’d kept herself aloof. Yeah, she’d gone ahead and put a few minutes into a physical relationship with Zach, five minutes here and there. Five powerful minutes, make that. But, that had been all for show, right? Part of the ruse, part of the reality they were trying to artificially create.

  Except, as the sleep fell away from her eyes this morning, that myth had dropped away as well. None of those five-minute sessions with Zach had been faked. Every single one pushed her deeper and deeper into a chasm of emotion for her legal and lawful husband.

  Now, if the blinders were completely off, she’d have to admit that the worst thing that could happen if she got deported at the end of this was not, in fact, losing the Texas Star or Du Jour, and possibly not even Mitzi’s parents’ retirement savings. All those things were earthly and replaceable. No, the worst outcome if she had to leave the country would be losing Zach.

  When the plane touched down, Zach had moved to a far window and was looking out. Piper overheard curses. Anger had him by the throat.

  “What’s going on?” Piper, steadying her newly awakened legs, came over beside him to look out and see what he saw. Oh, no. Piper’s every muscle clenched at the flashing blood-red nails drumming over the crossed arms. “Is that—?”

  “It is.” Zach’s voice was dark. “Agent Valentine.”

  The blond wore a slinky sundress. Nowhere to hide a sidearm there, unless she had one strapped to her thigh. Piper stared in wonder. How could someone that unprofessional-looking have the responsible job she supposedly had? They taxied closer and Piper could see the vengefulness steaming from her like heat from the tarmac.

  “How did she find us here? This morning?”

  “I don’t know, but I’d guess ICE has information on all international flights.”

  “I thought you said Puerto Rico wasn’t technically international.”

  The plane rolled to a halt near a waiting transport, and the stairs were rolled up to the door. Zach turned to Piper.

  “Better go face down the dragon.” He took her by both hands and looked down into her face. Strength poured through her.

  “She can’t hurt me.” Piper lifted her chin.

  “Exactly,” Zach said. “Your friend Mitzi said the hearing is set with a court date. We don’t have to even acknowledge Valentine if you don’t want to.”

  The flight crew opened their door, and Piper and Zach descended the stairway.

  “Well, if it isn’t the so-called newlyweds.” Agent Valentine stood on the hot asphalt with a pinched look on her face and her arms crossed over her impressive bust line.

  “We’re legally married, if that’s what you’re questioning, Agent Valentine.” Piper knew she shouldn’t even talk to the woman, but the accusations rankled her.

  “But you left Friday night at midnight, and now, boom. Sunday morning, you’re back. Isn’t that a little short for a honeymoon? I’d call it too short to be believable.”

  “Maybe we couldn’t afford to take more time off.” Piper gripped Zach’s hand—not as tightly as when they were in the parasailing harness, but close.

  “Maybe you’re in a corporate jet and so clearly ‘affording’ anything is not up for debate.”

  “Money isn’t the only currency, Agent Valentine.” Zach tugged at Piper’s hand. “Speaking of jobs, what are you doing working on a Sunday morning? Don’t you have better things to do than harass young couples in love?”

  “Maybe I’m collecting data points. Maybe I’m making my case against the two of you. Yes, the two of you. Because please remember that when you get sent to Auckland, you get sent to jail—and fined two hundred fifty thousand dollars.”

  “We’re not breaking the law. We’re married. This makes her legal.”

  “You and I both know it’s not as simple as that. For instance, counselor, when did you and Mrs. Travis initiate your relationship? That’s a salient point. The judge will want to know it. Because I’d say the lead-up was suspiciously short before your trip to the church. Suspiciously short.”

  “Don’t you believe in love at first sight, Agent Valentine? Or has all chance of love escaped you because you’re too bitter and vindictive?”

  “Shut up!” Now the truly bitter and vindictive side of Valentine showed its teeth. Piper shuddered. Zach should not be baiting a grizzly.

  “Come on, Zach, honey. Let’s go home.”

  “Whose home?” Agent Valentine snapped. “The pretend house you bought for show, or the one you” —she nodded toward Piper, shooting a fear through her chest— “and Mr. Floyd have planned together?”

  “Mr. Floyd?” It took Piper a second to even process the name. Chad. Chad Floyd. But no one had ever called Chad that, as far as Piper had ever heard. Not even at work. Not even ever. “What are you talking about?”

  “This.” Agent Valentine held up a tablet and pressed a play button on a pre-loaded video. “I think you’ll see why I’m skeptical.”

  There, on the screen appeared Chad’s face. He looked a lot tanner than Piper remembered, and far sweatier—and probably even more muscular, which was hard to imagine. He held a trophy in one hand and was smiling wider than ever. Flanking him were two highly muscled women, as well, in skimpy dresses made of a third the fabric Piper’s new green swimsuit had used.

  Chad kissed each of them, which was very weird and uncomfortable to see. Like he owned them. Piper had seen that look before on his face, right before he’d kissed her a time or two. The skin on her back crept up around her neck. What was he doing, kissing another woman? Make that women.

  “I’m Floyd the ‘Roid, and today I’m the king of the jun
gle.” Chad said this, his words floating through the hot morning air from the tablet to Piper’s ears. It came tinny, strange. And why was he using that name?

  “Last night, they named me the undisputed official champion at Jangle in the Jungle.” His voice had a faked growl in it, one Piper had never heard him use before. “I won every match, sent every opponent packing, crying back to his mother.”

  “Good for him.” Piper looked at Agent Valentine. “He really wanted to win that. I wish him the best.” Even if he did stand there kissing two different women on camera. Strangely, Piper hardly felt it. This Chad seemed like a different man, and Piper’s Chad seemed like a different lifetime from hers at this second, standing here on the tarmac with Zach Travis’s fingers twined between her own.

  Zach—how was he reacting? She stole a glance at him, but his face was a mask. Either he really didn’t care, or else he had a skill that could make him a killer poker player, or lawyer.

  “There’s more, Miss Quinn.” Agent Valentine possessed one diabolical chuckle.

  Zach bristled beside Piper. “That’s Mrs. Travis.” Some of his anger leaked through the mask now, though.

  “Just watch.” She pressed the play-pause button again and tilted the screen toward Piper.

  The applause for Chad’s bravado on the video feed died down, and he was talking again, calling himself that weird stage name. Where had Piper heard it before?

  “As champ, I, Floyd the ’Roid, am going to do what I’ve been postponing far too long—which is this.”

  The camera panned out, and it showed Chad’s full, oiled ultimate fighter body taking a knee.

  Piper’s ears suddenly started ringing—the blood racing through her veins shut out sound. But she did hear this.

  “To my best girl, Piper Quinn. I’ve waited long enough for you, and you’ve waited too long for me. Now that I’m the champion, will you marry me?” He pulled out a small box and cracked it open. Inside gleamed a diamond. “I’ll be home in a few days, and when I get there, I don’t want to waste any time. I’m ready to make you queen of the jungle, since now, heh-heh, I’m the king.” The crowd screamed on cue to the pandering he’d done in referencing the contest.

  The women flanking him kissed him on each cheek.

  But Piper’s stomach twisted. That Chad acted nothing like the Chad she knew. He was Chad two-point-oh. Well, make that negative two-point-oh. She didn’t recognize the way he spoke, let alone the way he was treating those women. Was this the accountant she’d dated, or some steroid-injecting Incredible Hulk version of him?

  Worse, Zach let go of her hand.

  “Scum. Lawbreakers.” Valentine scowled. “I want you out of the country, and I want you bankrupt and in jail. I’ll see you in court on Friday.”

  Five days from now? Piper flinched at the wrong, too-small number. But no, it wasn’t wrong. The court date was a week from tomorrow, seven days. Agent Valentine must have seen Piper’s shock.

  “Oh, didn’t I tell you? I know the judge. He was willing to expedite when I asked.” She rubbed her hands together. “Five days, Miss Quinn.”

  “You’re so full of—” Piper spat the words, but Zach restrained her.

  “Show us the order,” he demanded, all professionalism.

  Valentine swiped a few times on her tablet, making that Chad Face disappear, and soon she had a photo of a document.

  Zach took the tablet and pinched to enlarge the text. After a grim minute he nodded.

  “Fine. Friday it is.”

  Five days. They had five days.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Zach intended to drop off Piper at Du Jour first thing, so she could get started on her all-important meal for the critics, and also so he’d have a chance to sort his emotions about what he’d seen on Agent Valentine’s video feed without the intoxication of Piper at his side screwing with his reality. How could she have gone for a guy like that? Seriously? If that was her boyfriend, Chad, then he was having a hard time reconciling the girl he knew with a girl who would date a guy like that. She’d said he was an accountant. That guy? Did not look like any accountant Zach ever met. Confusion roiled in him.

  Letting her go at Du Jour felt awful. He’d been so close to her over the past several hours, that parting left a hollow ache in him, whether or not she’d dated an MMA fighter and sidelined Zach for him.

  It had seemed like last night she might have dispensed with the sidelining if the phone hadn’t rung.

  Five days. He had five days before he knew whether she’d stay and he could fight for her, or whether she was getting yanked from his grip. Five days left to convince her she wanted him enough to consummate the marriage and make it real, not just a figment simple to annul when things didn’t work out the way they intended.

  He pulled in at the Double Bar T Ranch. It was ten-thirty, so Mom and Dad should be home from nine o’clock church. That was the one activity Mom had never bent on, even in Dad’s slide into degradation: the family attended church no matter what.

  “Hey, Libby. How was Teacup for you?” Zach pressed open the front door of the trailer and saw the whole family not gathered around the TV as he would have expected, but sitting at the kitchen table.

  Libby leaped up to throw her arms around Zach’s neck. She wasn’t reading a book. She was talking to Mom and Dad. He stared in disbelief.

  “You came a day early, aw, but Teacup is amazing! I love her. Can I be her aunt, now that you and Piper are married? Can you start calling me Aunt Libby when you’re around both of us, or even when I’m not around, just so she won’t forget me? I wish I could keep her, but I know she’s yours. She went to church with us, you know.”

  “Uh, how did that go?”

  “She was horrible. Nipped at the pastor, bared her teeth at Sister Oliver, the organ player, and ran under the pews and wouldn’t stop tugging the hair out of a little girl’s dolly.” Libby’s eyes were bright with laughter. “Best Sunday in months. Teacup brought the Old Cross Church to life, believe me.”

  Zach took Teacup from Libby’s arms, and the dog nuzzled him a moment and then burrowed into his armpit. “Tell Aunt Libby thank you, Teacup, for letting you stay.”

  Teacup yipped.

  “By the way, Zach.” Libby sidled up to him, patting the dog on the head. “Piper is amazing, too. Even better than Teacup.” That was high praise. “Good job. I am so glad you finally found a great girl. I’ve got a million questions about that. So do Mom and Dad.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure,” he managed, hot lava filling his stomach. She’d just been proposed to by her real boyfriend, and Zach had seen the footage. Plus, there was the other inevitability: in five days, Piper could very well be shipped off to New Zealand, never to return.

  Either possibility might shatter his sister. He didn’t know what to say. But Libby had a lot to say—far more than usual, and no book was in sight.

  “I’ll answer questions some other time. Right now, I have to get back to the office.”

  Libby hadn’t been dissuaded from the topic. “I like her. First, she made those tacos out of ambrosia. Then, I assume she put the fried chicken in the fridge, right?”

  “It was her idea.” Technically, Zach had put away the groceries, but that wasn’t what Libby meant.

  “You’re not going to believe this. Since you guys came, we’ve eaten every meal together. And Dad talked.”

  “Oh? What did he talk about?”

  “Stuff. Not about Jeopardy or any other kind of TV. It was pretty cool.” She kissed the dog one more time. “Bye, sweetie. And thank Piper for me. I hate to be greedy, but I hope she’ll cook for us again someday soon.” She looked up at Zach. “Bring them both for family dinner. You’re a family now, right? Ha ha.”

  When this marriage got annulled, more people than just Zach would have a gaping hole in their lives.

  He avoided talking to his parents, took Teacup, and left for his white-picket-fence house and Piper.

  To his surprise, Piper was huddled o
n the sofa in the living room when he arrived. Her hair was up in a messy bun on top of her head, one or two tendrils spilling at her neck. She wore a thin, yellow sweater, and a distressed frown.

  “What are you doing here? I thought you were anxious to get to Du Jour. Isn’t this the biggest day of your career?” The clock on the mantel read eleven. Weren’t the critics coming in an hour?

  Piper hugged her knees up against her chest.

  “I—”

  “What?”

  “I didn’t know what to make, and I didn’t have any food, and at five a.m. I still hadn’t slept. I called Mitzi. She handled it.”

  “Oh? How?”

  “She contacted them and said that I was still, technically, on my honeymoon. It turns out food critics are human.”

  “Who’d have thought?”

  “She bought me some time, until tomorrow, and I have all of the Sabbath to wait for inspiration. So, today’s a free day, I guess.” She reached up to him, and he sat down beside her. Her scent was fresh, and she’d spritzed with whatever floral perfume she smelled so good in. “What do you want to do?”

  That was a hazardous question. What he’d like to do most was continue what was going on between them in Puerto Rico, obviously. However, now that Floyd the ’Roid had chucked a ring at her, he wasn’t sure how Piper was feeling.

  “It’s Sunday,” she said. “Should we go to church? There’s one downtown, or maybe find one nearer to our house?”

  “Sure.” Speaking of churches, and priests, and annulments… “But, Piper?” What he needed to do was ask her about the ghost of boyfriends past, clear the air. Then again, was Floyd the ’Roid actually a boyfriend past? According to the proffered ring, Chad apparently didn’t think so. Someone had just proposed to her over YouTube. Somehow he was assuming she would be watching.

  “Yeah?” she looked up at him, her green eyes alight. They penetrated him, making him doubt whether he should bring up the proposal at all. Despite Chad’s assumption that she would be following his every video posting, she hadn’t been. In fact, she hadn’t even seemed affected by the proposal. Instead, she’d gone on with the day like nothing had happened, sat beside Zach in his truck, planned to go to work, loved on their dog, and suggested finding a church together near their shared house.