Working on a Full House

by Alyssa Kress

  "Um," Valerie said and couldn't prevent a step backward, away from that sincere, gray-eyed gaze of his. She was determined to stay grounded here. Roy did things with a definite flair, that was clear. And that was all. None of this meant he was excited about marrying her for her own sake. She wasn't going to make the same mistake with him that she'd made with Peter, and read anything significant into minor details. In fact —

  "Wait a minute. Isn't there some paperwork we have to take care of first?" Her eyes widened. "Oh, God — we ought to have a prenup."

  Roy went still. The whole room went quiet. But Valerie was applauding her own clear-headedness. Despite the show Roy was putting on here, she'd thought of a prenup. Good God, she was about to marry a gambler, a man whose income fluctuated from one night to the next. She had assets, a house. Oh, was she grounded or wasn't she?

  Kenny was the first to speak again, animated. "She's absolutely right, Roy. I shoulda thought of that, myself. You need a prenuptial agreement."

  "No." Roy made an impatient movement with one hand. "It'll only delay things."

  "You need it," said Kenny, vehement.

  "Yes, we do," said Valerie, just as vehement.

  "Hey, it's Sunday, guys. I can't get a lawyer today." Roy looked toward Valerie. "And this has to happen today."

  "Why?" asked Kenny.

  Yes, why? Valerie caught Roy's gaze. Why did their marriage have to take place today?

  The look in Roy's eyes was intense. A girl could get the wrong idea about a gaze like that. She might start to believe the man was anxious to claim her or something. Like he cared. For a moment Valerie lifted dangerously from her grounded position.

  But only for a moment. Then she remembered why they were getting married. She remembered how Roy would never have bothered trying to see her again if one little thing hadn't happened: a baby.

  "Look, I agree marrying is the right thing," she argued, determined to keep her feet on earth. "But there's no reason to rush into this half-cocked. Let's put all the details in order."

  "Listen to her," Kenny put in. "Unlike you, she's making sense."

  Scowling, Roy swiveled toward Kenny, but his gaze caught on the professor instead. "Wait a minute." His frown turned into a brilliant smile. "Isaac, you were a lawyer for what? Ten years? You can scratch something up, can't you?"

  Isaac appeared unsurprised, as if he'd expected Roy to arrive at this question. "As a matter of fact, I could."

  Roy's smile widened ferociously. "Well, then..."

  "However," Isaac went on, and turned to Valerie with his gentle smile. "I'm not sure if the lack of a prenup is the only objection the lady has."

  Valerie's mouth opened. This man saw way too much.

  "I could write up an informal agreement right now, something that would protect your assets. It would stand up in a court of law, if it ever became necessary." The professor paused to eye Valerie curiously. "I can do that, if you want me to."

  "Well, I..." Valerie's voice trailed off. He could draw up a prenuptial agreement. Was that her only objection to getting married right now, this minute?

  "Of course she wants you to," Roy urged, and shifted his gaze to Valerie, "Right, Val?"

  Oh, boy. There it was again, the masculine ferociousness, the to-the-max manliness of him that appealed to her so much — and that had nothing to do with her. His insistence, the hot possessiveness in his eyes, the flowers and his waiting friends — they were all because of the baby.

  Would delaying the marriage change that situation? Would it change the fact that, basically, they were strangers and this was nothing more than a business contract? It was never going to mean anything.

  Valerie drew in a deep breath. "You're right. There's no reason to delay. The informal agreement will work."

  Everything moved very quickly after that. Roy, in a surge of triumph, arranged the professor and the minister to get things ready, directed Valerie and the witnesses to sign in all the proper places — he even came up with a county clerk who looked at her identification and produced a marriage license. Finally, Roy positioned himself next to Valerie in front of the minister.

  Viewing everything through the lens of practicality, the ceremony was no more than a necessary exercise to provide a father for the child growing in her womb. Everything special, the timbre of the minister's voice as he began to recite the sacred words, or the sensation that crept over Valerie that she was doing something vastly significant, was just an illusion. They were making themselves legally bound parents. That was all.

  Yes, a chill ran through her when she heard Roy vow to love her and to forsake all others for her. Yes, her voice went hoarse as she pronounced the same vow. And yes, it was hell trying to get a gold band on Roy's finger, what with her own hands shaking so much. She'd never dreamed he'd produce a pair of wedding rings! But that was only silliness. This ceremony merely cemented their bound parenthood; it wasn't about love or sacred union or even attraction.

  Before she knew it, Mr. Burton was delivering his final speech. "Now that Roy and Valerie have given themselves to each other by solemn vows, I pronounce that they are husband and wife." He closed the book and beamed at them, triumphant.

  Roy looked just the same. Hugely triumphant. He was apparently so pleased with the changed state of affairs that, smiling widely, he took Valerie's chin in one hand, lowered his mouth, and kissed her.

  Unfortunately, this was no chaste, wimpy little kiss. Oh, no, this was a determined kiss, a powerful one, a kiss that made Valerie close her eyes before anyone could see the dark lightning that zigzagged through her.

  "Congratulations!" Kenny spoke, over-hearty. Valerie could feel him slap Roy on the shoulder.

  The contact broke the too-powerful kiss. Roy pulled back, and was enveloped by his friend in a big bear hug.

  Valerie stumbled a little, trying to retrieve her balance, both physically and emotionally. She noticed Isaac Franck eyeing her in a curious manner.

  While Kenny continued to congratulate Roy, Isaac curved his lips into a strangely thoughtful smile. "Mazel tov," he said.

  Mazel tov. Good luck. As Valerie struggled to recover from that kiss, she decided she was going to need luck, and plenty of it. No matter how she rationalized things, Roy still had sexual power over her. A great deal of it.

  "And may I add my own congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Beaujovais?" said the minister, still beaming.

  "Beaujovais?" Valerie asked.

  "My last name," Roy explained, turning with a big smile still on his face.

  "Oh," said Valerie, and felt her equilibrium return. It was too funny. They'd just gotten married, and she hadn't even known the groom's last name! She started to laugh.

  Though Roy didn't appear to get the joke, he smiled, too. And why shouldn't he? As far as Valerie could tell, he'd just accomplished exactly what he'd wanted.

  CHAPTER NINE

  He'd gotten exactly what he'd wanted. In the meeting room, Roy paid off the minister, who hurried to his next gig, then turned to gaze at his new bride. Looking at her, dressed in her snug black slacks and silky blouse, he felt a rising sense of triumph. She was his now. Well, legally at least.

  "So do we get to eat the food now?" Kenny eyed the table loaded with the meal the waiters had just wheeled in.

  "Sure," Roy murmured. "Help yourself." He reached out to take Valerie by the hand. He could do that now. Nobody could stop him, not even her. "How about you? You hungry?" he asked.

  She gave him a look that, if he had to translate it, would have said, "Are you kidding?"

  Roy smiled and clutched her hand a little tighter. "Don't worry, Val. We did the right thing. This'll work out. You'll see."

  She made a determined effort to smile. "Yes, yes, I know," she murmured.

  She didn't know anything of the sort, Roy saw. But he'd change her mind. He'd get her to relax and accept the whole thing.

  "Come on." Roy tugged a little. "I got carried away. Ordered a feast. Isaac, you can eat this, too.
No meat. So, what can I get you, Valerie? Poached salmon? Scrambled eggs?"

  Working against her slight resistance, Roy pulled her over to the table. He lifted the metal top off the dish of scrambled eggs.

  At that, Valerie pulled out of his grip abruptly. She placed her hand over her mouth and closed her eyes. "Eggs... Uh, no thanks."

  Quickly, Roy replaced the top on the eggs. All right, she wasn't an egg person. But he was going to feed her. They were going to celebrate. Yeah, he knew what she thought of this wedding, that it was just a form, that the whole thing was simply a legal fiction. And it was...kind of.

  But it was also more than that. Roy couldn't exactly define how it was more, he just knew that it was.

  "How about fish? I've got salmon, some herring..." Roy's voice died out as Valerie backed determinedly from the table, her face paling. "What's wrong?" He was suddenly frightened. Was she ill?

  "Nothing, nothing," she murmured from behind the hand she still held over her mouth. "It's just eggs, fish..." She glanced embarrassedly toward the two men who were helping themselves to the food. "I really can't handle anything so...pungent."

  Roy felt his brows draw together in confusion. Pungent? What the — ?

  Valerie lowered her voice. "I'm only in my sixth week. Matters usually improve by the twelfth."

  Roy's drawn brows jumped upward. Pregnant. The woman was pregnant. Idiot. She had morning sickness. "Oh," he said. "I'm sorry." He glanced toward the door, wondering if she needed a bathroom, and how far away the nearest one was located. He hadn't even considered...

  "It's okay." She put a hand on Roy's shoulder, which brought his attention whipping back again. She hadn't touched him, on purpose, since they'd met up again last night.

  Now she removed her hand quickly, but her smile was less forced, more genuine. "It's not the kind of thing you think about if it isn't happening to you."

  "Well, gee..." He was thinking about it now, hard. "Do you need anything?"

  She shook her head, still smiling. "I'm afraid there's nothing you can do about it. I'm just sorry I can't do justice to your nice meal." Her smile faded a little. "It was kind of you to think of it, to think of everything, to...try to make this special."

  Roy felt a solid kick in his mid-section. So, she'd wanted to make this special, too. She thought it was something. Good. Great. His voice, when he spoke, came out deeper than he'd intended. "Surely there's something I can get you. Toast, tea?"

  "No." She was backing away again. "Anyway, I ought to hit the road. I do get tired in the middle of the day and I want to be home before then."

  Roy's eyes widened again. Tired? Was that part of being pregnant?

  "Sure, sure," he said.

  Her gaze flicked toward the door. "I need to go upstairs, pack."

  "Right." He followed her backward-stepping progress toward the door. "I'll go with you."

  "No. I mean — " She stopped to give him a smile far less genuine than a minute before. "You've got your friends to entertain."

  Roy glanced toward Kenny and the Prof, who were happily filling their plates. "They're fine."

  "Still..."

  The way his new bride was trying to get rid of him was starting to rain on his parade, but Roy persevered. "We need to exchange some information," he told her. "Phone numbers and the like."

  "Oh." She appeared, briefly, nonplussed. "Of course. I hadn't considered — And you think...we should do that now?"

  Roy nodded. "Let me walk you up to your room. We'll take care of everything."

  Her mouth opened, then closed. "All right."

  Roy tried not to feel disappointed he'd had to force her to agree. She would get used to this, being married to him.

  But she clearly wasn't used to it yet. Once up in Valerie's hotel room, she hastily found her purse and produced a business card with her work and cell phone numbers. She thrust it at Roy as if it was a get-out-of-jail card, something that would make him leave the room.

  "Why don't you put your home information on the back," Roy suggested, handing it back to her.

  "Oh." She blinked a few times and actually hesitated, as if Roy weren't perfectly justified in demanding such information. "Um, sure."

  "And this is my cell phone number," Roy said, producing his own business card. "No matter where I am, even in Timbuktu, you can reach me here."

  Valerie took the card with a wry smile. "Do you plan on going to Timbuktu?"

  Roy waited a beat, so she'd look at him. When her chocolate brown eyes met his, he explained, "I'm not travelling anywhere until the baby is born. I'm going to be available, Valerie." Mrs. Beaujovais, he added in his head. "If you need me, I'll be here."

  Her face flushed as she flicked her gaze away. "I'm in good health, Roy. I don't expect any problems."

  He wasn't talking about problems, but Roy held his tongue. He wasn't exactly sure, himself, what he was talking about. "All the same," he said evenly. "That phone number will reach me, no matter what."

  She gave a nod and turned away. "So, is that all? Have we taken care of everything?"

  Roy grunted. He felt reluctant. He wanted to hold her, he realized. He wanted to express in some vague, physical terms what they'd done with a few words downstairs in front of the minister. They were married now. No matter what the reasons for the marriage, it was very real. Binding. Significant.

  But he could read the signals. If he so much as patted her shoulder she'd bolt.

  "Yes," Valerie answered for him, over-bright. Relieved. "That's it. So now we can say goodbye."

  Roy wanted to watch her pack and see her off in her car. She, clearly, wanted to get rid of him.

  But all the same, Roy thought, with a return of his earlier triumph, they were married now. Connected.

  She could not run away from him again.

  Roy's eyelids lowered as his lips curved. They were going to have a baby together. She could never run away from him again. "Yes, Valerie," he said, as meek as a mouse. "I guess we can say goodbye."

  For now.

  ~~~

  The foolishness of it all. No, that part of marriage Kenny hadn't forgotten. He watched with a grin as Roy followed his bride out of the room, looking like a lapdog trailing after his mistress.

  Chuckling, Kenny turned his attention back to the buffet table. He heaped a slab of poached salmon onto his plate. "You know, I think I envy him." Kenny picked up the serving spoon for the rice pilaf. "The ancient ritual, the murmured vows...the wild hopes for the future."

  A healthy pile of rice landed on Kenny's plate. Across the table from him, Isaac Franck was carefully spreading cream cheese onto a bagel.

  "It's been so long since I last got married," Kenny went on, reaching for the jello spoon, "I'd almost forgotten how stomach-churningly exciting it can be."

  Putting down the cream cheese knife, Isaac eyed Kenny over the table. "Thinking of throwing your hat in the ring again?"

  Kenny laughed. "For the fourth time? I don't think even I could handle a fourth divorce."

  Isaac smiled, which was when Kenny belatedly realized what he'd said could have been interpreted as a joke. He'd been serious, though. The probability of his keeping a wife was close to zero.

  "Speaking of divorce," Kenny went on. "I'm sure glad you were able to handle that prenup for Roy. He's clearly not thinking straight at the moment." Kenny took his loaded plate toward the set table. "He's still in the wild-and-foolish-hope stage of things."

  "I wrote the prenup to set the woman's mind at rest — and yours." Isaac followed Kenny to the table. "Roy's not going to need it."

  Kenny looked up, arrested. "You think? This marriage is going to take?" He had to admit, Roy looked besotted enough. And if Isaac thought so...well, it was practically written in stone.

  "I have no idea if the marriage is going to last or not." Seating himself, Isaac gazed longingly at the bagel heaped with cream cheese in his hand. "If Lois could see me with this mountain of cholesterol..."

  "She'd swipe it
," Kenny agreed. Isaac's wife of thirty-four years was determined her husband stick around for another healthy thirty-four. "But why don't you think Roy will need the prenup, if you're not even sure they'll stay married?"

  Gazing at the bagel with increased ardor, Isaac answered Kenny. "Even if Roy divorced Valerie, he'd never skimp on money for his child, nor for his child's mother." Isaac lifted a shoulder. "Nor, with his bank account, would he need to."

  "True," Kenny said. "Yes, that's true." Roy wouldn't skimp. He'd want to shoulder the responsibility. Kenny knew Roy took responsibilities very seriously because of the extreme care with which the man avoided taking on any. And now he had two: a wife, and a child on the way. About the biggest two a man could own.

  Kenny shook his head. "Completely the opposite of me. I've never taken a responsibility seriously — and I sure haven't been generous to any of my exes."

  Isaac succumbed and took a bite of the cream cheese and bagel. His eyes closed. "That is too good," he murmured, then opened his eyes to look toward Kenny. "Do you think you should have been generous?" He tilted his head. "If I recall, at least one of those exes tried to carve into you with the biggest knife in the kitchen."

  "True." Kenny nodded. "That was Darla, on her way out the door. Didn't give me a warm and fuzzy feeling, I gotta admit. And Rita didn't ever want to hear from me again, even if it was to get money. But Cloris definitely wanted a cut of the action."

  Kenny forked up a bite of salmon. "She used to come to poker games sometimes and knew I could rake it in. Trouble was, she didn't stick around long enough to see me lose just as big." Kenny forked in another bite of the tender salmon. "She tried her sweet, cold-hearted best to get a piece of me. For two years I was getting notices from the court — and ignoring them." Kenny shrugged. "Eventually, even Cloris gave me up as a lost cause." He laughed as he plowed his fork into the rice pilaf. "So I guess there are some advantages to being a complete and utter screw-up."

  "Hmm," Isaac said, and put his bagel down with a sigh.