My stomach lurches and I resist the urge to reach out to her, nodding instead. I’ve seen plenty of those in the ER and I know how terrifying they can be. “Is that the first time you’ve had one?”
The idea that marrying me could be the start of these episodes leaves a sour feeling in my stomach.
She shakes her head. “No, I had one after my grandfather died. And then the first one I had was when those pictures of my husband with his mistresses were printed.”
I frown. The moment I read that she was engaged to Jeffers Anderson, I knew he’d fuck it up. We used to travel in the same circles, and the guy was always a pompous ass, thinking he was God’s gift to women. But I didn’t get any satisfaction once those pictures confirmed it.
“I see. Well if there’s anything I can do, let me know.” The platitude rolls off my tongue. There isn’t much I can do, unless it involves getting her through one of the attacks.
“Which reminds me,” she says, squaring her shoulders, “we didn’t discuss it, but I’m sure it goes without saying that neither of us will involve ourselves in any extracurricular activities for the duration of the six months? I can handle taking the blame for this marriage ending, but I can’t deal with more press about how I have a cheating husband again.”
A flash of pain in her eyes tells me how devastating a blow her husband’s infidelity was for her. Whether it’s because she was in love with her husband or because of the public embarrassment, I’m not sure.
“I’ll keep it in my pants. Though six months is a long dry spell. You might need to perform some wifely duties.” I wink to ease some of the tension.
She rolls her eyes and turns for the stairs. “I’m going to bed. I’m assuming I’ll sleep in the guest room?”
Another thing I hadn’t thought of. No newlyweds would sleep in separate beds, but there’s no one here to call us on it, so that makes the most sense. But why does disappointment settle in my stomach at the thought?
“Of course. If you need anything, let me know.”
She nods and makes her way up the stairs, hips swaying as she does.
Fuck. I need a cold shower.
I go through the main floor and turn off all the lights and make sure the doors are locked, then I head up to my bedroom. After I’ve stripped out of the tuxedo, I turn on the shower and step in before it’s running warm to cool some of the heat in my blood. Especially the blood giving me this rock-hard erection I know is courtesy of my mind replaying how gorgeous Mazzy looked tonight and how she tasted when we kissed.
The light catches my ring. I can’t believe I’m a married man. Fake or not, I never thought I’d see the day.
I stroke myself without making a conscious decision that I was going to. I was running through thoughts of Mazzy tonight, and before I knew it, my dick was in my hand.
Screw it. Might as well give myself some relief, even if it is to thoughts of the woman I hate who’s now my wife. So I tighten my grip and stroke up and down, swirling my fist on the tip. I’m panting hard when my balls tighten and the base of my spine tingles. And then I’m coming on a groan, picturing my seed hitting her chest rather than running down the drain.
What the fuck am I doing? I’m supposed to be the one in control here.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow I’ll have my shit together. I just need a minute to get used to the fact that she’s back in my life.
Nineteen
Mazzy
Saturday came and went without any drama. I stayed in bed as late as I could, and when I got up, Nick had left a note that he’d gone to the gym. The photographer sent the proofs from the wedding, so I chose one to send to the paper along with the announcement I’d written.
Nick and I avoided one another for the rest of the day, and that night, we ate pizza while a baseball game played on TV, both of us barely saying a word. I went to bed to read my book. I’d avoided both Nick and the outside world, because the news Nick and I are married will be announced to the world. As soon as the first person within my circle spots the announcement, it will be spread like peanut butter on toast—easily and with anticipation.
Still, I somehow managed to get some sleep. When I wake, I hear Nick putter around downstairs. He used some of his vacation days to take the weekend off. With a sigh, I toss back the covers and get out of bed. After I’ve gone to the bathroom and pulled my hair into a messy bun, I grab my phone from the nightstand and head downstairs. I can’t avoid the inevitable forever. The inevitable, at the moment, being my new husband.
“Morning,” I say when I step into the kitchen.
He’s sitting at the large island, sipping coffee, and reading the newspaper. The very one that will have our announcement in it. He glances up, the mug stalling halfway to his mouth while he takes me in from head to toe. “Morning.”
He returns his attention to the newspaper and brings the mug to his mouth. I walk over to the coffee maker, setting my phone on the counter, and open the cupboard I found the mugs in yesterday. I’m pouring the coffee in a mug when Nick exhales loudly.
“What?” I turn to face him, sipping the steaming liquid in my cup.
He turns the paper around and holds it up. There’s a large color photo of the two of us at our wedding. I step forward, set my mug on the island, and grab it out of his hands.
If you didn’t know better, you might actually look at this picture and think we were in love. We’re looking at each other, and the smile on my face makes it look as if I’m completely infatuated with this man. Nick’s looking at me as though he’s never seen a more beautiful bride. I scan the remarks under the picture to make sure they printed the announcement how I phrased it, and I’m pleased to see that they did.
“I’d say we sold our marriage in that picture, huh?” I toss the paper back his way.
“Seems so.” He studies the picture for a few seconds before setting it aside. “Are you hungry? There’s a good breakfast place around the corner I go to sometimes.”
I tilt my head. “Are you going to give me directions and send me on my way or was that an offer to take me there?”
A deep chuckle leaves him. “I figure we’re married now. We might as well get used to each other’s company. It’ll make it easier to sell this relationship to other people.”
“True.” I nod slowly.
It’s not that I don’t welcome the opportunity to move forward with Nick—quite the opposite—but I’m suspicious of the sudden change in his attitude toward me. He’s been nothing but kind and supportive with my Meniere’s or the panic attack, but that’s just his training kicking in. The man helps people for a living. Taking me to breakfast is something else entirely.
“Awesome. Let’s get ready and leave in say… forty-five minutes? Is that enough time for you?” His eyes track me from head to toe again as though he suspects that’s not possible.
“Should be plenty. What should I wear?”
Nick’s prevented from answering me by the sound of my phone ringing on the counter. I look down and see my mother’s name on the screen. She knows. I can’t avoid her forever, but I can avoid her until this afternoon at least. I hit the button to send her to voicemail, and immediately, the phone rings again. This time, it’s Ava’s name on the screen.
“Obviously, word still travels fast in the city,” Nick says in a wry voice and sips his coffee.
I give him a wane smile and pick up my phone. Ava will be relentless and just keep calling.
“Hello,” I answer.
“You bitch! I’m gonna kill you. You got married?”
“Good morning, Ava.”
“To Nick Ryan of all people?”
I glance across the island at him. He’s sipping his coffee and back to reading the paper. “Yes, Nick and I are married.”
“No shit. I saw the announcement in the paper, which you obviously must have been behind. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were seeing Nick. What the hell? And I wasn’t at your wedding.” She sounds as though she’s pouting.
I do feel terrible for not including her, but somehow, that would have felt worse. I’d rather her miss the event altogether than include her in a lie.
“I’m sorry. It’s all been kind of a whirlwind.” Not untrue. “We ran into each other unexpectedly and sparks flew. We didn’t want to waste any time.”
Talking about this in front of Nick feels weird. He’s not looking at me though, and probably not listening either.
“Well obviously, if you let him put a ring on it. After that douchebag Jeffers, I thought you’d never get married again.”
Nick’s mouth forms a thin line. Strike that, maybe he is listening.
“Well, I hadn’t planned to.”
“He must be giving you some good dick if you married him. So tell me, what’s it like? I know you’ve wanted to bang him again for forever.”
Nick chokes on his coffee. If I’d had any in my mouth, I probably would have too.
My cheeks burn. “I’m not going to talk to you about that.”
“Okay sure, save it for when we get together and you explain to me—your best friend—exactly how all of this happened and why I knew none of it.”
I sigh. I knew I couldn’t get away with just a phone call with Ava, but I can’t tell her the truth. People’s jobs are on the line. “Let’s get together next week and I can fill you in.”
“I’m gonna hold you to that.” And she will.
“Text me some days that work for you and we’ll figure it out.”
“Damn right we will. Now go fuck that gorgeous husband of yours and report back next week.” She giggles and hangs up.
I’m actually surprised I got off that easy. She must be saving her energy to give it to me in person. With a sigh, I set my phone back down on the counter.
Nick stands and sets the newspaper beside his empty mug. “To answer your earlier question… you don’t need to dress up for this place. There’ll be no one from the press taking your picture. But you should probably put on a bra.” His gaze flicks to my chest.
I glance down too and see that my nipples are poking through the thin cotton of the cami I wore to bed last night. I’m not used to having to cover up for anyone. My cheeks heat even more than they did when I was talking to Ava—which I would have thought was impossible—and I look back at Nick.
Is that desire in his gaze? I can’t be sure because as fast as I spot it, he blinks and it’s gone. And so is he, leaving the kitchen.
Twenty
Nick
On Monday morning, I’m surprised to find Mazzy already awake when I head down to the kitchen just after five o’clock in the morning. I figured socialites sleep in. But I push my less-than-nice thoughts away because this is my life for the next six months and I can’t be miserable every second of it.
“Morning.” I inject as much enthusiasm into my voice as I can at this ungodly hour.
She cries out and her hand flies to her chest.
“Sorry, did I startle you?” I head over to the coffee machine I have programmed. It blessedly already has my coffee ready, and I pour myself a cup. “Want one?”
She shakes her head and holds up her glass of water. “I’m going for a run. Just getting a drink first.”
Jesus, it must be early because I didn’t notice at first that her entire body is covered in lycra. But now that I have, it’s difficult to keep my dick from tenting my scrubs.
“That why you’re up so early?” I sip the steaming liquid in my mug. It’s like heaven on my tongue.
“I like to get my exercise in first thing in the morning. Usually I use the gym in my building—”
“Sorry, sweetheart. No gym here.” I can’t keep the irritation from my voice, and I mentally chastise myself.
She narrows her eyes at me. “If you’d let me finish… I was going to say, ‘But I’m looking forward to being outside and going for a run in the fresh air.’”
“Oh. Sorry,” I grumble.
She sets her glass on the island. “I realize you think you know me and that you’ve got me all figured out, but I assure you, you don’t. I don’t sit at home counting my money while servants rush around to do my bidding.”
My grip tightens on the mug. “I never said you were.”
“No, but you didn’t have to. You think I’m some spoiled little rich girl who can’t do anything for herself and who has no goals or aspirations for her life.”
I can’t help the chuckle that escapes. “And exactly what are your goals and aspirations, Maz?”
Her face blanches and she blinks in rapid succession.
“That’s what I thought.” I pour what’s left of my coffee down the drain and leave the mug in the sink. “I’m on a twenty-four-hour shift, so I won’t be back until tomorrow morning. I wrote down the code for the door here.” I motion toward the notepad on the counter. “If you need me, text me, but depending on what’s going on at the hospital, it might take me a bit to get back to you.”
“Okay, I’ll see you whenever then.”
I nod and leave my new wife behind. Should I have kissed her on the cheek before I left? Nah. This whole marriage is fake unless we have witnesses.
As soon as I step foot into the emergency department at the hospital, it’s clear the rumor of my nuptials is circulating. Everyone gives me a wide berth while simultaneously whispering and looking at me out of the corner of their eyes.
I assumed this would happen at some point, but I thought it might not be until my shift next week. Clearly someone saw the announcement in the paper though. Which is fine. That’s what I wanted, right? For everyone to find out and see me as a respectable man, not a womanizing douche who takes advantage of his coworkers?
But of course the first one to confront me is Lucy. She corners me before I walk away from my locker in the staff room.
“You got married?” She stands with her arms crossed over her heaving chest, eyes narrowed. Her tone is accusatory as though I’ve betrayed her.
Time to earn that Oscar nomination. “I did.” I smile.
“To that woman who was here last week?” Her hands move to her waist as if I’m a small child about to be scolded.
“Her name is Mazzy.”
“I know her name. I saw it in the paper. She’s a Pembrooke. Is that why you married her? For her money?”
My teeth clench so hard, I’m surprised they’re not dust. Her comment just proves how little she knows me. An excess of money is the last thing on my wish list. All I’ve ever seen it do is cause people to make bad choices.
“The last thing I want from my wife is her money.”
Something in my voice must tell Lucy how serious I am because she visibly falters. “Well… why didn’t you ever mention her then if she’s so special to you?”
Jesus, she’s giving me the third degree as if the two of us were an item.
“Not that I need to explain myself to you, but Mazzy and I share a long history and once we reconnected, we didn’t want to waste any time. We both know what we want. What’s the point of waiting?”
The door of the staff room swings open and the charge nurse walks in. She’s been working at the hospital for more than thirty years and we’ve always gotten along well.
“Dr. Ryan, I hear congratulations are in order.” She smiles and steps over to give me a hug. “Someone made an honest man of you. I can hardly believe it.”
Her tone is playful, so I smile back. “Thanks, Norma. Yeah, I’m a lucky guy, that’s for sure.”
Lucy huffs and stomps out of the room while Norma chuckles. “Don’t worry about her. She’s just not used to any man who doesn’t respond to her double D’s. She’ll get over it.”
We share a laugh and head out to start what ends up being a very long shift.
Tuesday morning, I’m coming off twenty-four hours of hell when I get a summons to head up to Dr. Schwartz’s office. I’m surprised he’s here this early, but I expected to be called up there at some point.
The admin floor is quiet when I arrive, and I
head right into his office.
“Morning, Nick. How was the ER this shift?” he asks when he looks up from his computer, setting his glasses on the desk.
I sigh. “It was one of the long ones. I can’t wait to get home and crash.”
“I won’t keep you then. I just wanted to say that I saw the announcement of your marriage in the paper. I didn’t mean for you to go and find a wife to try to clean up your image.”
I smile at him and chuckle. “Don’t worry, I didn’t think you did. My wife and I share a long history, and we ran into each other unexpectedly and decided we didn’t want to waste any time getting where we wanted to be with each other. Life is too short.”
Using the word wife still feels so weird. And Jesus, I’m sick of having to repeat this same story over and over. I must’ve had to do it five times through my shift with different nurses and doctors. The more I tell people, the more I’m starting to believe the false story.
“Oh well then, congratulations.”
I nod. “Thank you.”
“This will certainly help with the board.”
“I hope so, though that wasn’t my goal.” Liar, liar. Pants on fire.
“Well, congratulations again. Let me know if there’s anything else you can think of to really sway them that you’re not a liability.”
Seriously? A wedding wasn’t enough? Do I have to get her pregnant too? “For sure. I have something else in mind, but I’ll let you know when it comes to fruition.”
He nods and slips his glasses back on his face. “Perfect. Okay, go home and get some sleep. I can tell you’re exhausted.”
“Thanks.” I stand from the chair. “Have a good one.”
He gives me a small wave without looking away from his screen.
He’s right—I am exhausted—but I need to make a quick pit stop before I leave the hospital. Something occurred to me when I was at Keane’s surprise party and talking to his sister, but I want to run it by Ollie first since his fiancée has known Keane and his sister, Marlowe, forever and I’m relatively new to being Keane’s friend.
Don't Mind If I Do : A Fake Marriage Romantic Comedy Page 9
