Wanted: A Good Wife & Great Sex (A Bargained Marriage)

by SL Beabhar

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Ash had lied--he was worried. He didn't like to worry. With his hands clasped behind his back, he strolled into the Officer's Club as if it was a normal day.

  He walked to the room where the luncheon was being held. He grinned broadly when he heard excited whispers fill the crowded space. It wasn't totally unexpected that a husband showed up for a luncheon, but everyone knew that he avoided them like the plague.

  "Coop?" called out Ottinger. Ash released a heavy breath, then he turned to greet the colonel, who was grinning from ear to ear. "I never thought I'd see you step foot in one of these things."

  "Believe me, neither did I," Ash muttered. Glancing around the room, he asked, "Have you seen my wife?"

  Ottinger still seemed to be in shock. With his mouth hanging open a tad, he nodded and pointed towards a row of windows. "She's over there near the door prizes."

  "Thanks," Ash said, walking away. He scanned the room for Phoebe's dark hair, ignoring the amused and curious glances shot his way. Instead of finding his wife, he caught sight of Reggie waving her cane in the air. He waved back, then made his way to where she stood.

  "How was the lunch?" he asked.

  Reggie sucked on her teeth as he approached. "Those fuckers served meatloaf."

  He grimaced. "Not here, Reggie."

  "Whatever," she said, brushing aside his comment. "I ain't doin' this again." She walked past him, right to the door. "I'll be outside." She pulled a pack of cigarettes from her purse. "Take your time."

  He turned to watch Reggie's escape and caught Jack lurking in the shadows. She tossed him the bird, then turned on her heel and followed Reggie. She tried to grab Reggie's elbow, but Reggie pulled back and shooed Jack away. He continued to watch as the two of them walked out of the building, fighting for control of Reggie's cigarettes.

  "Hey, Coop!" a woman called out.

  "Hi, Major," said another.

  He nodded in their direction, but he didn't stop his search for Phoebe. He finally found her sitting in a chair in a corner. She held her beige pumps in her lap and she was curling and uncurling her toes. Feeling his world collapse around him, he knelt beside her and waited for her gaze to land on him.

  When it did, he noted the solemnness in the depths of her eyes. "That bad?" he asked.

  "Terrible," she said, bending over to brush a bug away from her right foot. Then she pulled her foot onto her knee and rubbed her heel. "I don't think I'll be wearing these again."

  Ash looked at Phoebe, truly looked at her. There was no panic in her features. No anger twisting her mouth. He looked down at her shoes and realized her comment was about the state of her feet.

  "C'mere," he said, motioning towards her leg. He waited as she swung her feet onto his lap, then he took her foot into his hands and began to knead. He could feel a crowd of women gathering around them. He fought the urge to snatch her up and run from the room. Instead, he lowered his voice, "I take it Jack kept her mouth shut."

  Phoebe smiled. "More or less."

  He stopped his massage to glare at her. "What did she say exactly?"

  "Exactly?" she asked.

  "Yep."

  Phoebe grinned, and he couldn't help but fall deeply into her dark eyes. When she pointed down at her foot, he was eager to comply with her silent command. Resuming his massage, he waited for her to continue.

  "Jack said you were lucky to have found me."

  He must have squeezed too hard because Phoebe grimaced. "Sorry."

  She shrugged a shoulder, then pulled her foot from his hands.

  "Did she really say that?" he asked, pushing up from his knees.

  Phoebe slid to the edge of her chair and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Then he stood to his full height, drawing her to her feet. She returned his stare for a moment before dropping her gaze.

  With her head pressed into his chest, she murmured something low. He couldn't make out the words, so he placed a finger beneath her chin and nudged her face.

  "I'm sorry," he said, "I didn't catch what you said."

  Phoebe licked her lips, then took a deep breath. "I said that I love you."

  Ash felt like he could just melt into the floor. He studied her eyes, waiting for her to say that she was only joking. When she didn't, he felt a smile blossom on his face.

  "I thought you barely tolerated me."

  She smiled. "Sometimes I don't."

  "Don't love me?"

  Phoebe laughed. "No, knucklehead. Sometimes I don't tolerate you." She turned away and exhaled loudly. "But I think--no, I know--that I'll always love you."

  He chuckled, then felt her hands grip his chin and turn his face towards hers. It was a crowded room, but he felt the others fade away as he stared at his Phoebe.

  "Did you mean what you said earlier?" she asked.

  Earlier, he'd hoped she hadn't noticed his little slip of the tongue. But now he realized it was probably the greatest mistake in his entire life. "That I loved you?"

  She nodded.

  "No," he said quickly. "I just love your cookies."

  "Today is definitely one of those days that I barely tolerate you."

  He threw back his head and laughed. Then he grabbed her hand, weaved their fingers together, and rested their hands against his heart. "I love you, Phoebe Cooper."

  "Oh my God," said a woman, "they are so cute."

  "I never thought I'd see it," said a masculine voice. "Our Coop's done fallen in love."

  Phoebe's wide lips parted in a happy smile. She brought her other hand up and traced his lips with the tip of her finger. "I hope you meant what you said. That this is no longer temporary."

  He shook his head. "Sorry, babe, you're stuck with me."

  "Good."

  Feeling the need to leave the room, Ash stepped back and offered her a hand. She placed her hand in his, and he pulled her alongside him. But, from the corner of his eye, he saw her grimace.

  "Ah," he said, stooping to place an arm behind her back and knees. As he hoisted her into his arms, he heard several loud gasps from around the room. "I think I can help you with that."

  Phoebe wrapped her arms around his neck and dropped her forehead against his. "Ash..."

  "Yes?"

  "One more thing."

  He pulled his head away. His gaze drifted down her body before settling on her belly. "You're pregnant?"

  She gasped. "No. I'm not."

  "Oh." He felt slightly disappointed. Then he remembered how babies were made, and he felt his good mood return tenfold. As he carried her from the room, he nodded in Olivia's direction. He was surprised to see approval on her face. "Then, what's wrong?"

  With laughter in her eyes, Phoebe pointed towards the parking lot. "I need a new car."

  SL Beabhar is the romance pen name for author Siobhan Beabhar.

  To learn more about upcoming romance novel releases, please join her mailing list:

  http://eepurl.com/cWeEtj

  The following is a sample from Siobhan Beabhar’s novel:

  Siúil A Rún

  To purchase, you can find it on Amazon at:

  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01N1F1WF6

  Friday, 17 December, 1915

  Ballingeary, County Cork, Ireland

  As snow shrouded the small village of Béal Átha an Ghaorthaidh, Kady Murphy sulked in the shadows of the church’s community hall. She cringed as sweat gathered at the small of her back and made her cotton underthings cling to her skin. The room was almost unbearably warm as young women like Kady gathered to make their debut during the village's annual matchmaking event.

  Feeling faint, Kady breathed deeply and was immediately overwhelmed with the pungent smell of perspiration mingled with the cloying scent of cloves and cinnamon. The old, wooden floorboards wavered beneath her feet as the exuberant dancers stomped across the floor. The reverberations bounced against the stone walls, and the vibrations reminded Kady of the cadence of marching soldiers.

  Unlike previous c
elebrations when she laughed and gossiped with her friends and neighbors, her mood was bittersweet.

  Mourning parents anchored many of the tables, reminiscing about their sons who had left to fight but would never return. The surviving young men—most wearing their new 16th Division uniforms—stood morosely, too preoccupied with thoughts of war and death to notice the shy glances Kady’s friends and former classmates sent their way. From the edges of the dance floor, the other finely-dressed young women smiled hopefully, clearly eager to dance with the handsome lads, seemingly unaware that being unmarried was the least of their worries.

  Kady wished she could crawl beneath the building and hide. Ignoring Tobias Monahan’s intense stare from across the room, Kady removed a handkerchief from her pocket and blotted her brow. Dressed in a lavender velvet evening gown, she felt like a gaudy, preening bird amid so many somber, mournful crows. Struggling to maintain her composure, Kady tugged at the wilted red tendrils of her loose bun and wished for an escape.

  “I’m scarlet for ya,” said a disembodied voice.

  Kady’s heartbeat accelerated as she recognized the husky tone. She turned and searched the shadows behind her until she noticed one pillar had wavy, black curls protruding from the sides. Kady’s lips quirked when her friend’s face emerged.

  “Come here till you’re hidden by the pillar,” Gráinne Ní Riain said, beckoning to Kady. “I’m tellin’ ya, The Monahan’ll go crazy with not seein’ ya.”

  A spark of rebelliousness propelled Kady towards Gráinne even as her eyes sought out Tobias. Feeling like a child hiding from punishment, Kady hunched her broad shoulders and settled beside her friend. So loudly did her heart pound, she could hear the drumming in her ears.

  With her head resting against the cool stone, Kady peered down at the top of Gráinne’s head. She stood so close that wisps of Gráinne’s bobbed hair tickled her nose. Inhaling deeply, she allowed Gráinne’s gardenia and vanilla fragrance to flood her nose and cleanse the muggy air.

  “I think Mrs. Kinney is lookin’ for ya.” Gráinne glanced over her shoulder at Kady. Her dark blue eyes widened when she noticed how close Kady stood. Feeling Gráinne’s surprise, Kady stepped back.

  “He’s a good catch,” Gráinne continued, nodding in The Monahan’s direction, “if ya don’t mind….” Her voice faded as her finger mimicked his large, hooked nose.

  Kady’s gaze drifted to her parents where they sat with Father Donovan. She feared looking at Gráinne, thinking her dejected glances would further bewilder her friend. Forcing wayward thoughts from her mind, she said, “He stutters.”

  Gráinne nudged her side. “’Tis endearin’.”

  Recoiling at the thought that anything about Tobias Monahan was endearing, Kady continued to watch her father as he murmured into the priest’s ear.

  “Come now, Kady,” Gráinne said, “I’m speakin’ nothin’ but the truth. Dontcha be sayin’ otherwise.”

  Kady didn’t want to be there. She wanted to be home where she could curl into her bed and lose herself in her thoughts. But she wasn’t at home, and she knew her parents wouldn’t leave the hall until she had danced with Tobias. Tearing her gaze from her father, she glanced around the pillar and made eye contact with The Monahan. When his brows lifted in silent inquiry, Kady pushed Gráinne aside and stepped away from their hiding place.

  “Would ya stop talkin’ about The Monahan?”

  “Oh, d-d-d-dear K-K-Kady, I l-l-lo—”

  Kady spun on her heel, smacked her hand over Gráinne’s mouth, and yanked the girl until they were hidden behind a row of soldiers. Curiosity compelled Kady to peer over her shoulder. Tobias was still watching her movements. Feeling near to a breaking point, Kady grabbed Gráinne’s quaking shoulders and reversed their positions. “I wish I could just snatch ya bald, Gráinne Ní Riain.”

  “Such fire, Caitríona Murphy. I didn’t think ya had it in ya.” As she ran her fingers through her short hair, Gráinne’s blue eyes twinkled and danced. She laughed at Kady’s growing discomfort and twirled in her lovely plum-colored cotton dress. The gown was one of Kady’s hand-me-downs, and it looked better on Gráinne than it had ever looked on Kady.

  A subtle movement caught Kady’s attention. She turned away from Gráinne and found Mrs. Kinney, with her bulbous nose and beady blue eyes, watching them with a mixture of disdain and disappointment.

  “Good evenin’,” Kady said, feeling more sweat gather at her back. Mrs. Kinney was one of the village’s matchmakers, and she had been the main force behind Kady’s match with Tobias.

  But there was a doubtful look in Mrs. Kinney’s eyes tonight. She examined Kady’s face before lowering her gaze to scrutinize Kady’s dress. “You look lovely.” In spite of the kind words, there was no kindness in her tone.

  “Evenin’, Mrs. Kinney,” Gráinne said from behind Kady.

  The matchmaker stiffened at the sound of Gráinne’s voice. Instead of addressing Gráinne, she turned her back to them and walked a short distance to where Mrs. Rankle, one of Mrs. Kinney’s henchmen, stood.

  “There’s that O’Ryan girl again,” Mrs. Rankle said loudly as she shook her head in disgust. “Twenty years old and without a suitable match. That gel will never wed. Mark me words.”

  Gráinne leaned onto her tiptoes and whispered into Kady’s ear. “If I never find a match ’tis because she’s a terrible Babhdóir.”

  Kady stifled a giggle, not wanting Mrs. Kinney to see her amusement. She avoided the older women’s gazes and noticed that Tobias was quickly approaching. She latched onto Gráinne’s hand and squeezed until Gráinne’s mouth opened in a sharp intake of breath.

  Kady pointed in his direction. “Look. He’s comin’ this way.”

  For a moment, Gráinne stared back at her as if confused. Then she bolted behind Kady and sunk her fingers into Kady’s hair.

  “Dear Jesus, would ya look atcha?” Gráinne said, tugging the silk ribbon from Kady’s bun. Quickly, she removed pins and tucked away loose strands before twisting Kady’s hair into a chignon. As Gráinne shoved pins into the knot, she grunted with satisfaction. Then she pushed Kady forward. “That’ll do her.”

  Kady groaned loudly, causing Gráinne to erupt in laughter behind her. Kady resigned herself to her fate, that of dancing with Tobias. Her shoulders slumped and her head bowed. Her panic rose as he neared but, unexpectedly, he didn’t stop before her. He walked right past her and approached her parents’ table.

  “Maybe he doesn’t want to dance with me?” Kady said.

  Gráinne snorted and pointed at Kady’s hair. “Mayhap he thought ya were Medusa?” Laughing again, Gráinne wrapped her arm around Kady’s waist and rested her head against her shoulder. “He’s askin’ your da for permission to dance. ’Tis only proper.”

  Kady knew Gráinne was right. But it didn’t stop her heart from fluttering with outrage.

  Looking in her parent’s direction, Kady noticed the pride on her father’s face as he sat straighter in his chair. She didn’t need to look at her mother’s face to know she would find satisfaction there.

  “What if I don’t want to dance with him?” Kady asked her friend.

  Gráinne growled as a twirling couple came too close to their refuge. She sucked air through her teeth then removed her arms from Kady. Stepping aside, Gráinne narrowed her eyes and pointed at the couple in a silent warning.

  “Just say,” Gráinne said in a distracted manner, ‘No, Tobias Monahan, I don’t want to dance with ya.’”

  Kady felt her chignon begin to loosen as she nodded emphatically. She inhaled deeply and curled her fingers into fists. “No, I don’t want to dance with ya.”

  The corner of Gráinne’s mouth twitched. “I wasn’t plannin’ to ask ya, so there’s that.”

  “No, Tobias Monahan,” Kady said, punching her fist in the air for emphasis. “I don’t want to dance with ya. No, Tobias Monahan, I don’t want to dance with ya.”

  Tobias left her parents’ table and made his way to Kady, his st
ride purposeful. When he noticed Gráinne’s presence beside Kady, his feet slowed and his eyes narrowed. Then he shook his head, as if clearing it of disgust or frustration, and he looked at Kady. His mouth relaxed into a shy smile as his eyes focused on her nose.

  Gráinne mumbled something and once again retreated behind Kady.

  “Miss Murphy,” Tobias said, his voice higher than usual. “Would ya like to dance the next set with me?”

  Kady’s throat went dry. She swallowed loudly and prepared herself. Over and over she had repeated the words, and she knew what needed to be said. She took several slow breaths, then exhaled all of her courage through tightened lips. Feeling breathless, she stood and gaped at him.

  A long moment passed. Tobias waited patiently while Kady struggled to control her panic. The words were on her tongue, but they just wouldn’t leave her mouth.

  Another set began. Cheers of approval broke out as dancers stepped in rhythm to the Ballingeary Jig Set.

  “Do ya want to dance?” Tobias asked again. Loudly.

  Kady deflated. She felt a sharp jab to her back, then heard a muffled and high-pitched, “No, Tobias Monahan, I don’t want to dance with ya.”

  Tobias frowned. “Enough from ya, Gráinne.”

  Gráinne stepped away from them and didn’t bother to cover her laughter.

  His jaw tightened. “You should be ashamed of yourself.” He then pressed his lips together, snatched Kady’s hand, and tucked it under his arm. “Go away with you,” he said, waving a hand towards Gráinne. “Come now, Kady.”

  “I will,” Kady blurted, her anxiousness quickly replaced with the comfort of predictability. As usual, she would do what was expected of her. “I will dance with ya, Tobias Monahan.”

  He stared at her in confusion. “Yes, of course.”