I Do (Marriage of Convenience Romance)

by Amy Faye

  “What would you do?”

  “Cut and run. Take the employees you bought the company to acquire and get the hell out of dodge. Take your money, dump your assets, and leave.”

  “I didn’t buy the company to scalp a few employees, Bryce. I didn’t buy the company in the first place.”

  “Well there’s your problem right there,” he said. There was a hint of teasing in his voice. Rose didn’t have much interest in being teased. Violet picked up one of the blocks and started smacking it into the ground. Part of me worried that she was going to dent the flooring. Part of me figured that if a hundred-ninety pound man could walk around on it, then it could handle the arm strength of a six month old smacking a pine block into it. “You’re emotional about the property.”

  “It’s my job, Bryce, and I’m not going to be the owner for all of three minutes before I dump it. That would be stupid.”

  “It would be even stupider to lose a ton of money on a property that’s not going to pay you back, don’t you think?”

  Rose looked down at Sarah. She had crawled over and was trying, vainly, to get her attention and maybe stand up. She got up onto her feet, then failed entirely to get anywhere close to standing before she fell back onto her butt. Rose picked her up.

  “I need help, Bryce. I don’t need you telling me that I should just walk away from my problems and hope that it’s better luck next time. Besides, if your goal was to get the IRS to avoid looking too deeply into your affairs—and apparently now my affairs, too—then I don’t think that dumping a property and making a ton of liquid cash is the way to do that.”

  He sucked in a breath. “Look, I don’t know what to tell you, Rose. I just know that I wouldn’t hold onto it. I’ve been told that I have good instincts for these things. I’ve certainly made more money than I’ve lost, and I usually assume most things are going to make me money, rather than lose it for me.”

  “Well, maybe I don’t have your instincts.”

  “Then do what I said. Get rid of it. Call your guy and tell him to sell.”

  “I already told him to buy.”

  “Well, that’s your mistake right there.”

  Rose’s teeth grit together for an instant. Then she decided that she had a better option, anyways. She looked down at Sarah, who smiled up at her like there was nothing going on around. Like she was as happy as a little clam. Rose couldn’t help smiling. It wasn’t fair that the little girls could have this effect on her. She was supposed to be angry.

  “You’ll figure it out,” Bryce said. “It’s your company. You’re not going to go broke just because it goes under, okay? So if you’re worried, just…”

  He trailed off. Rose spoke with a tone that belied the words: “I’m done with this conversation, Bryce. You should play with Violet.”

  He nodded at the edge of her vision, and scooted forward until his butt slid off the couch cushion and onto the floor.

  “How are you doing, little lady?”

  Violet immediately rolled onto her back and looked up at him. He tickled her with one hand. It was easy to be angry with him when he talked. When he talked about business, it was even easier. But watching him play with the little girl, who he didn’t even realize was his little girl, it was almost enough to make up for how much of a jerk he was.

  Almost.

  Ten

  If someone asked Rose Sewell, back when she was Rose Sewell, how she felt about Michigan Chemical, it wouldn’t have been a particularly hard question to answer.

  She hated it. She hated the management. She hated the work. She hated the fact that it was all menial, meaningless labor that she did all day, every day, and in the end it wasn’t the sort of thing that she wanted to keep doing, if she had any choice in the matter, which for the most part, she figured she didn’t.

  After all, the alternatives all involved going hungry, or finding a new job, and in this economy, with her qualifications, it wasn’t going to be a peach of a time, and she wasn’t going to get any better job by doing it, regardless.

  So she had kept at it, and with time, it had grown to be a part of her life. Not a beloved part, and certainly not one of the parts that she looked forward to each and every day. But it didn’t have to be something that she looked forward to ‘each and every day.’

  It was a job, and it paid well enough, and it kept her busy. There was gossip, there was stability, and there was a life there, under all of it. A life that occasionally took her to business conferences, and one time, got her into the bed of a man who at the time seemed way, way out of her league. A man who, as it turned out, got her pregnant. A man who she’d married, a year later, without him ever realizing the missed connection as far as she could tell.

  And now, it was her own little company. Something that she had a responsibility to, the same way that she had a responsibility to Sarah and Violet. Three hundred and fifty-two people, of whom she knew about a dozen well, and about a hundred by sight, were being watched over by her. They were all her responsibility.

  If she wanted them gone, then they were out of jobs. If she wanted them to keep their jobs, then they were in the money, regardless of how bad at their job they happened to be.

  And there was one other thing that she was responsible for, too: making sure that they stayed profitable. Making sure that there was a job for them to come back to. When the company ran out of money, and couldn’t afford to pay, it wasn’t going to be a long time before people started to get ideas about how much loyalty they actually had to the company.

  It wasn’t going to be a long time before people started thinking that maybe if they weren’t getting paid there was other work that paid them. Maybe it would pay better, or maybe it would pay worse, but in the end, if it paid, it was better than not getting paid.

  That was her real responsibility, and with a bunch of people bearing down on the company, trying like the devil to make sure that she couldn’t keep it solvent forever…

  Well, it wasn’t a good situation.

  Rose Kilpatrick wasn’t Rose Sewell any more. She wasn’t some data entry job, a nameless, faceless entity in lower-middle management who just made sure that clients got their shipments on time, while men twice her size made sure that the shipments were there to get filled, and science types made sure that there was something to fill those shipments with.

  She was the owner. And if she had to empty out the company’s coffers to stay that way, then that was her right as the owner. It was her money to spend, and it was her company to keep.

  The problem, of course, was that none of that mattered one bit. She could feel real good about herself, as she pushed harder and harder to make sure that she stayed in charge. She would, too, if the need arose, because it was important. But it wasn’t so important that she needed to lose someone their job.

  Duncan would be able to keep himself working, if he was let go. He was a resourceful guy. Craig was smart enough. Linda and Marcus and all of them were technically expendable. But there was always the chance, however slim, that there wasn’t going to be a big let-down at the end of the rainbow. Sometimes, things worked out, as surprising as it was, and she had to gamble on that. Because things sure as hell weren’t going to go any better if she stuck around.

  She took in a breath. It was probably smarter that she got out of her involvement with running a company, anyways. She wasn’t that smart. She wasn’t experienced with this kind of work, and she didn’t actually want to be in charge.

  She just thought of the company as her responsibility, and she was willing to do the work to protect something she was responsible for. It was that simple, really. And now she was going to get rid of it, because that was the responsible thing to do.

  She took a deep breath, fidgeted with the heavy steel pen in her pocket that she’d picked up at an office store for thirty dollars, and hoped looked flashy enough not to embarrass her.

  In five minutes, there was going to be a meeting to sign the final paperwork to release everything, and
that would be the end of her short career as a businesswoman. Oh, well. It was hardly a big deal. She hadn’t really wanted to be a businesswoman in the first place, after all.

  Rose sucked in a breath, checked her phone again. Four minutes.

  And then it rang, so loud that it made her jump, and her husband’s face, broad and manly and sexy as hell, and only her husband on a technicality, appeared on the screen. She answered it.

  “Hello?”

  “Don’t sell,” he said. “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

  And then he hung up.

  Eleven

  Rose held Sarah on one arm, and Violet on the other. Violet was sleeping, while Sarah tried desperately to clutch at her shirt. In a few minutes, they’d be home. So it seemed more convenient to feed on a couch than walking down the street. And of course, if she could do it when Bryce wasn’t sitting there, watching her like a hawk, that would be nice, too.

  “You’re mad at me,” he said.

  “Yeah,” Rose answered. “Of course. You’re always hot and cold about this stuff. Just figure out what it’s going to be and stick with it, at least.”

  He let out a long, low breath. “I understand.”

  “Do you?”

  Sarah got her fingers into the exact right—or wrong—position, and pinched hard. Rose let out a yelp. “Just a minute, sweetie. We’re almost home.”

  As if the girl understood.

  She obviously didn’t or didn’t think it was a good enough justification for not feeding her right that moment, because she went right back to trying to clutch at her mother’s breasts. Rose cuddled her in closer and let out a breath.

  “So there’s something I have to say, and I’m a little… I don’t know. Nervous? That might be wrong.”

  “You? Nervous? I can hardly believe it.”

  He grimaced. “Of course I get nervous. I’m human, aren’t I?”

  “Tell that to the rest of the world.”

  His grimace almost managed to twist into a smile. “If I told the rest of the world, they might think that they could beat me.”

  “But maybe they could. After all, you’re only human, right?”

  “Who said anything about only?”

  “Whatever,” Rose said grumpily. They turned onto the street. Two hundred yards, and the walk would be done with.

  “It had to have been scary for you.”

  “You think? Whatever. I’m not going to play these on-and-off games with you.”

  “Is that what this is about? You’re angry about me being unclear?”

  “Maybe,” she said. It felt appropriate to throw that back in his face, since it was only fair that he be allowed to have someone be totally unclear with him, after how unclear he was with her all the time.

  “Don’t be like that, Rosie.”

  “Don’t call me that. I hate that name. My mother calls me Rosie.”

  “Okay. It won’t happen again.”

  He said it with a tone that suggested that he legitimately might not do it again. It was a pleasant surprise.

  “I just want to know what you want from me, Bryce. Just tell me what you’re thinking.”

  “Look. I can tell this is important to you. I don’t know why you care so much about this company. It’s not something that I’m equipped to understand. The first company I built, I built from scratch. And when I did it, I set a goal. I wanted to make a hundred million dollars on it. It was ambitious at the time.”

  “And, what? You still have your first dollar?”

  “Why on earth would I still have my first dollar? No, I sold it. Hundred-fifty.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because I’m not equipped to understand why you’d have trouble selling something. But I can tell that you do have reservations about it, regardless, and I’m not going to judge you for that.”

  “Well, good.” She huffed. “I’m glad we’re not judging people.”

  He strode a little faster to get past her and turned around. Rose kept her pace. She wasn’t going to play any weird games to compete with him. He was the one who competed. She just wanted to have a day off of all this craziness. But apparently that wasn’t going to happen.

  “You wanted my help.”

  “I did.”

  “And now?”

  “Now I’m mad at you.”

  “For helping.”

  “No, Bryce. Not for helping. Don’t try playing the martyr. It doesn’t suit you.”

  “Then I won’t.”

  “Good.”

  “I’m not going to be a martyr for you, Rose. But I’ll promise you this. You run into trouble again with this pet company of yours, and I’ll be there to keep you from stumbling, okay? I’m not going to let you run it into the ground and spend money until it should have died years ago. I’m not suicidal. But I’ll do what I can to stop things hitting you.”

  She turned up the driveway. He turned, too, stumbled for a second, and then caught himself. It was oddly endearing. And a very good reason not to walk backwards.

  “You should watch where you’re going.”

  He grinned. “You know, Rose Kilpatrick, I think it’s that attitude that’s got me loving you.”

  “Oh yeah? Love, huh? Big word.”

  “We’re stuck with each other. It’s better to get along and get to be happy with the situation, don’t you think?”

  “You make it sound like such a storybook romance.”

  “I’m not a storybook prince, Rose. I never promised you that. But I’ll do my best to keep you safe. And if I could make you happy in that time… well, I’m not hoping for any miracles, but I will take what I can get.”

  Twelve

  Violet woke up. And like she always tended to, she woke up hungry. Which was convenient, in a sense, because while it meant that there were two babies to wrangle while they both tried to suck every drop of milk out of their mother, it meant that they both went down quietly afterward.

  Bryce watched the proceedings silently, seeming lost in his thoughts. He took Sarah, and between the two of them they managed to get both the girls down in their cribs, and managed to do it without waking them up. It was a feat of coordination to do it by herself, but with a helper, it was only challenging.

  Rose leaned against the wall and watched him as he walked by.

  “You seem to be thinking about something.”

  “You’re right,” he said.

  “What’s that?”

  “Thinking how good you look.”

  She blushed in spite of herself. “You think so? You don’t think I’m a little fat?”

  He looked down at her hips. “Maybe you got a fat ass, but it’s one of your best assets.”

  “Yeah?” She turned her hips. His hand came down and met her ass in a rough slap.

  “Yeah, I’d say so.”

  She smiled in spite of herself. She should have been on her guard against Bryce and his tricks. She’d made him promise to use her instead of picking up girls. It wasn’t a promise that she knew to a certainty he would keep, but she knew that if she wanted him to try, then she was going to have to let him at her sometimes. And it wasn’t like she was complaining.

  “You’re feeling randy today.”

  The way that he ground his teeth was unspeakably sexy, regardless of how his dentist might feel about it. “Every day,” he said. “With you around.”

  “My little charmer.”

  He stepped closer to her. Leaning against the wall was a mistake, she decided as took another step closer, and pressed himself against her from his hip to the peaks of her breasts.

  It had put her between a rock and a hard place, and the walls seemed to be pressing in around her. And she knew that the only way to go was to push him away, or to get what she really wanted out of him. What she’d been afraid to take for herself since the wedding.

  What if they woke the girls? What if that killed the mood… permanently? What if he thought differently of her now that he’d seen her
breastfeeding four or five times a day for the past week and a half?

  His head dipped and her chin came up to meet his lips halfway, and she decided that she didn’t care either way. It was what she wanted, and she was going to get it. She could worry about what came after when the time came.

  His lips felt good against hers. Stubble left behind from his morning shave scratched against her cheek. The discomfort somehow made the whole thing feel more real, more immediate. She leaned her head back as his lips traced a line down her throat.

  His hands found her hips, tracing a line down until it ran across her leg towards her core. She felt like she was overheating already. Wanted to get her clothes off. Her hands didn’t do what she wanted, though.

  The part of her that made decisions wanted to push him away, to reclaim the initiative, to pull her own blouse off and try to get some kind of power for herself.

  The part of her that reacted sucked in a breath and pulled him in closer to him. His body was firm against hers—every part of it. She felt his hardness, pressed against her hip. And she felt the fire inside her burn a little hotter with the knowledge that in a few short minutes it was going to be inside her.

  Her hands and her brain finally agreed on something. She snaked her fingers between them and found his manhood, rubbed against it through the thick wool suit. His hips pressed against her hand.

  Rose sunk to her knees, Bryce’s fingers dug into her hair, and she got to doing what she liked best, and prayed that nothing came up to interrupt them.

  Thirteen

  The first thing that Rose heard about any problem was the call, at six thirty in the morning. It should have been from someone from the press corps. They should have called her to confirm any element of the story whatsoever. And then she would have denied it, found out what the source was, and either silenced the liars, or dealt with the fact that they hadn’t lied.

  But to find out from someone who woke her up sleeping in her own bed, as opposed to her husband’s, was just another point of embarrassment on top of the hundred that were already piling up.

  “Rosie?”

  Duncan sounded surprisingly alert for so early in the morning. Maybe he hadn’t slept at all, or maybe something had changed and he was on a health kick or something. She didn’t want to ask for fear it would send him off of whatever health kick he was apparently on.