Accidental Bride (Beaufort Brides #3)

by Noelle Adams

But it was so strange to think of Peter in the shower right now, rubbing his naked body down with soap. It gave her a jittery feeling that she really needed to get under control.

  What he looked like in the shower was none of her business. She might be wearing his ring, but it was only for the next forty-three days.

  The sound of spraying water stopped, which meant he was getting out of the shower. She forced herself not to visualize what he looked like, stepping out onto the bathmat, soaking wet, water streaming down his chest, his long legs, his face, his ass.

  She was still trying to clear her mind of the visual a minute later, when the bathroom door opened and Peter stepped into the room, wearing nothing but a pair of boxer briefs and rubbing his wet hair with the towel.

  She stared, startled and hopelessly drawn to the sight of his lean body, tight muscles, firm flesh. Her eyes dropped unerringly to his groin, the outline of which was visible beneath the fabric of his underwear.

  “Oh, sorry,” he said, lowering the towel slightly as he saw she was sitting up in bed. “I didn’t know you were awake.”

  Kelly told herself to stop looking at him, but her eyes completely ignored her mind. “I’ve got an eight o’clock class.”

  “I know that.” He gave her that little arch of one eyebrow as he started towel-drying his hair again. “You think I don’t know your schedule?”

  “I know you know.” She was starting to feel a little flushed as he turned around to lean over and open a drawer of the dresser. He had the best butt she’d ever seen on a man in her life. “I was just saying.”

  He glanced back at her over his shoulder. “You were just saying what?”

  She had absolutely no idea what she was trying to say. “Nothing. Just that I always get up by seven.”

  She prayed the response was basically lucid, and was relieved when he turned back to pull out a pair of jeans without further comment. He worked at the hotel on Monday afternoons, but he always had time to come home to change after class into his work clothes.

  She should be getting out of bed and heading into the shower herself, but she couldn’t make herself move yet. It was so strange to watch him get dressed. It occurred to her that she should be polite and give him some privacy, but he was the one who had stepped into the bedroom in nothing but his underwear. If he’d wanted privacy, he should have dressed in the bathroom.

  He didn’t look remotely self-conscious as he pulled on the jeans. “What are you thinking about?” he asked, his eyes studying her face closely.

  She really, really hoped he couldn’t see what she’d been thinking about just now. She wasn’t exactly aroused, but she was flustered and shivery and a little embarrassed. Something about seeing him like this was so intimate—more intimate than anything else she could remember.

  To cover, she said the first thing that came into her mind. “I was thinking about the first time we met. Do you remember that?”

  “Of course I remember that. You think I don’t remember when I first met you?”

  He looked almost offended, which confused her even more. “I just meant you might not remember all the details. Guys don’t remember things like that, do they?”

  He frowned, walking over to sit on the edge of the bed beside her, still bare-chested and now strangely intense. “It was a Monday, the first day of class in the fall semester three years ago. History of the Civil War. You were five minutes late and tried to sneak into the classroom without anyone noticing. You were wearing a blue shirt and your favorite jeans. You had to climb over me to get to the only empty seat in the class, and then Dr. Higgins said, since you were late, you could tell the class something interesting you knew about the Civil War.”

  Kelly’s heart was doing the craziest gyrations in her chest as Peter spoke, his eyes resting on her face with something that looked fond, almost possessive. “You remember all that?”

  “Of course, I do. You proceeded to explain the whole history of Captain Beaufort in the Confederate Army. When Dr. Higgins asked how you knew all those details, you said you’d heard them as bedtime stories since you were four years old. I knew right then that I had to get to know you.”

  She was smiling like an idiot. “You only wanted to get to know me because of this old house. Don’t try to pretend it was something personal.”

  “It was—”

  “It was the house. The first thing you asked me after class was if I lived in the old Beaufort house and if we had any plans for restoring it.”

  “Well, I had to think of something to say. And I’d always thought it was a gorgeous old house.” He was smiling too—just as much as she was. “But it was you I wanted to get to know.”

  “Don’t try to make up stories now. I know the truth.”

  Something unexpected happened to his face. The smile transferred to a deep, almost serious expression. “I don’t think you know more than the smallest sliver of the truth, Kelly,” he murmured.

  Her hands were trembling so she had to hide them under the covers. If she didn’t end this conversation soon, she was going to say something infinitely stupid, something she couldn’t take back. “I know it’s after seven now, and I’m going to be late for class if I don’t get moving. I’ve got to make sure Grandmama doesn’t need me to do anything.”

  “I’ll drive you to class, so it won’t take you so long to get there.”

  She usually walked, since the campus wasn’t far and she didn’t own a car. “But your class isn’t until ten.”

  “Yeah, but I have a paper I need to work on anyway. I can just spend a couple of hours in the library.”

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  Peter stood up, and she thought he was going to finish getting dressed, but he stood looking down at her. After clearing his throat, he said casually, “I don’t have to work this weekend, so I was thinking…”

  When he didn’t finish, she frowned. “You were thinking what?”

  “Since people think we’re married for real, it would make sense for us to have a honeymoon.”

  “What?”

  “A honeymoon. Nothing big, but maybe we could go away this weekend. I think that would be a normal thing for a couple to do.”

  “Go away where?”

  “I don’t know. It doesn’t matter.”

  “But anywhere we go would cost money.”

  “That doesn’t matter.”

  She stiffened her shoulders. “Yes, it does. We just had that trip to Las Vegas. We can’t go on another trip so soon. We don’t have the money for it.”

  “I have the money.”

  “But you’re saving your money to buy a property when you graduate. You can’t go blowing it on something useless like a honeymoon.”

  “It won’t be anywhere expensive. We don’t have to fly. We can drive somewhere and get away. People aren’t going to believe we’re married if we’re around your grandmother all the time. No newlyweds would want to do that.”

  “I don’t care what people think. They’ll have to deal with it. I can’t leave Grandmama again, anyway. And I’m not going to let you waste your money like that.”

  He was frowning now, and he looked as displeased as she felt. “It’s my money. I can spend it however I want.”

  “Then you can go on a honeymoon by yourself.”

  “Kelly—”

  “No, Peter. I’m not going to let this stupid fake marriage hurt you in anyway. I’m not going to let it use up your savings or make it harder for you to find a good property when you graduate. You’ve worked too hard. I know how much you want this. I know how much it means to you.”

  “But it’s not the only thing that means something to me.”

  She didn’t understand what he meant by this—only that he was being stubborn about something ridiculous. She was about to reply when her phone chimed with a text. Reaching over to grab it from the nightstand, she read the message.

  “It’s Deanna,” she told Peter. “She wants to know if we can have lunch today with her and Mitchel
l.”

  Peter looked surprised. “Sure. I guess so. What do they want?”

  “I assume they want to check us out and figure out what’s going on with us.”

  “You’re not going to tell them the truth, are you?”

  “No. No, of course not. Deanna might suspect something, but we’ll just tell them it was spontaneous, and this is what both of us want.”

  “Okay.” His face had relaxed, and he was smiling again as he pulled a T-shirt on over his head. “I need to be at work by two, but that should still leave us plenty of time for lunch.”

  Kelly let out a breath and made herself get out of bed. She’d known a temporary marriage like this would be awkward in a number of ways—even between her and Peter.

  She had no idea why he’d gotten this silly idea about the honeymoon in his mind, but hopefully it was just a passing thought and he’d already let it go.

  At least here, in her home, with her family, going to her regular classes, she could still basically feel like herself—even though she was married.

  If she was alone with Peter for the weekend, as his wife, she’d start to feel like somebody different.

  And then she might do something that Kelly Beaufort just didn’t do.

  ***

  Peter’s class got out a few minutes early, so he walked over to the building where Kelly’s class was held and waited near the door for her to come out.

  They were heading over to the Claremont, the luxury hotel Mitchell owned, afterwards to meet him and Deanna for lunch.

  As he waited, he tried to think of who could spend the weekend with Kelly’s grandmother, so she couldn’t use that as an excuse.

  Peter knew Kelly cared about him. Genuinely. Strongly. But her affection for him still ran a distant second to her grandmother.

  He couldn’t even resent it. Kelly’s love for her family was a deep part of who she was, and he wouldn’t want her any other way. But her family circle was tight, very small. He would never be included in it.

  But, still, there must be some way to work around it. If they could get away for a few days, he’d have a better chance of introducing her to how much more could exist between them.

  It might be a long shot, but at least it was something. As it was, nothing was likely to change.

  He’d been leaning against a tree, but he straightened up when Kelly walked out of the building. She wore her braids and her glasses and a pair of worn jeans. She looked exactly as she always looked, but his heart still sped up at the sight of her.

  He tried not to remember how rumpled and sexy she’d looked this morning, as she sat in bed and watched him get dressed. For a few minutes, he’d thought he was actually making progress. She’d looked flustered, self-conscious, like she was thinking about him, seeing him, in a different way. Then she’d been so sweet and affectionate as they’d talked about the first day they met. But the moment had been lost, as soon as she’d remembered her grandmother might need her.

  Kelly smiled when she saw him waiting. When she reached him, he spontaneously took her face in his hands and gave her a soft kiss.

  For a moment, her lips, her body, melted against his, but then she stiffened up and pulled away. “What are you doing?”

  “Kissing my wife.”

  “But why?”

  “Because we’re supposed to have just gotten married and that’s what a husband would do.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “Aren’t we supposed to make this convincing?”

  “Yeah, but there’s no one around here who—”

  “You never know who might be watching. We should be careful.”

  He watched a series of emotions flicker across her face—annoyance, amusement, acceptance, resignation. “Fine,” she said at last. “I guess that makes sense. Let’s get going so we’re not late for lunch.”

  He smiled as they started walking back to his car. “Is kissing me such a chore?”

  “No!” She looked startled by her own vehemence. “It’s just a little strange. I mean, we’re not supposed to be kissing.”

  “I’ve never been married before, but I understand that kissing is a fairly common occurrence.”

  She chuckled softly. “Yeah, but we’re just supposed to be friends.”

  It actually hurt a little, that she was so completely convinced of this, that it never seemed to cross her mind that they might one day be even more than friends. He pushed the feeling aside, though, and kept his tone light. “Not for the next forty-three days.”

  “Right.” She gave him a little smile. “I’ll try to remember that.”

  ***

  They had lunch on a private patio at the Claremont. The day was sunny, the food was delicious, and the ambience incredibly pleasant. Peter loved this hotel. Ten years from now, he would love to own a place like this—with the same kind of attention to detail and skilled hospitality.

  It had taken Mitchell about ten years. Peter was sure that he could do it too—even without relying on his family’s money and connections.

  Peter wasn’t like Mitchell, though. Mitchell was one of those guys who got through life by charming everyone around him, easing through difficulties with a way with words and a charismatic smile. Peter wasn’t like that. People who knew him liked him, but it usually took him a while to warm up to others. His mother had always said he was too independent for his own good, that people recognize when you don’t need them and therefore don’t make an effort to know you.

  She was probably right. He had plenty of friends, but people didn’t fawn over him the way they did over Mitchell.

  Peter could see it even now, in the manner their server had toward Mitchell. She was scrupulously polite, but she watched him like he was a gift sent down from heaven.

  When he saw Deanna frowning slightly as the woman retreated, after bringing out their lunches, Peter suspected that Deanna saw the same expression he had.

  She turned toward him unexpectedly and must have caught the look on his face. She gave him a dry little smile. “I’m used to it.”

  Peter couldn’t help but laugh. Deanna was a lot like Kelly in some ways—in that straightforward practicality and ironic, intelligent humor. She was pretty in an obvious manner, which wasn’t as appealing to Peter as Kelly was, but she had the same sort of hard-working patience and commitment to family that all the sisters had.

  They really were a remarkable family. And Kelly was the most remarkable of the three.

  “Used to what?” Mitchell asked, lowering his fork before he took his first bite.

  “Used to everyone drooling over my husband.” Deanna gave him a teasing smile that made it clear she wasn’t genuinely annoyed or resentful. “It’s a cross I have to bear in long-suffering silence.”

  “You might want to remind yourself about the silence part,” Mitchell teased, reaching over cup his wife’s face gently.

  Any question Peter might have had about whether Mitchell’s charisma really bothered Deanna vanished at the look on the man’s face. She could have absolutely no doubts about how much her husband loved her. Peter was immediately uncomfortable, as if he’d intruded on a private moment.

  He looked over to Kelly automatically, and their eyes met for a moment. He didn’t have a chance to interpret the look in her eyes because she broke the gaze almost immediately.

  “I thought we were supposed to be the newlyweds,” she said in a bland voice.

  Deanna laughed and Mitchell dropped his hand. “That’s right,” he said. “What’s that about, anyway?”

  “Crazy things happen in Vegas,” Peter said, making sure to keep his voice light and mild.

  “I guess so.” Mitchell looked between the two of them. “You’re not going to live in that old house for very long, are you?”

  He didn’t have to say it. Peter knew he was referring primarily to living with Grandmother Beaufort.

  “It makes sense for now,” Peter said, since Kelly’s eyes had flashed over to him. “At least until we graduat
e.”

  “What are you going to do then?” Mitchell asked.

  “Peter is in hotel management,” Kelly said. “He wants to do the same thing you do.”

  Peter would have said it differently, but he couldn’t help but like the fond admiration on Kelly’s face—as if she really appreciated his dreams for the future.

  “Really?” Mitchell asked. “Why didn’t you tell me before? I might be able to get you a position here, if you’re any good.”

  “He’s great,” Kelly said, before Peter could respond. “He’d be amazing, working for you here. He’s working at East Bourne House right now.”

  “Really? That’s a good property.” Mitchell pulled out his phone and appeared to make a note for himself. “Send me your stuff, and I’ll take a look at it. When do you graduate?”

  “In May,” Peter said, before Kelly could chime in again. She looked so pleased and proud of him that he could hardly begrudge her for interfering, but he felt incredibly uncomfortable by this conversation.

  He didn’t want to work for Mitchell, any more than he wanted to work for his father. Whatever he did in life, he was going to do it on his own.

  Searching for a diplomatic way to pull back some, he said, “I’m still figuring out what I’ll do after graduation, but I sure appreciate the offer.”

  Mitchell nodded, as if the issue were resolved in his mind, and Peter saw Kelly and Deanna giving each other pleased looks.

  He sighed.

  Maybe his mother was right. Maybe he shouldn’t be so independent. Maybe he should accept help when it was offered. It would make life so much easier.

  But easy wasn’t him. It had never been him. He’d resigned himself to that years ago.

  “So how are things going?” Deanna asked, obviously making an effort to change the subject. “Living with Grandmama, I mean?”

  “It’s fine,” Kelly said. “It’s totally fine. We moved downstairs, so we have a little privacy.”

  “Not much,” Mitchell muttered, a spark of amusement in his eyes. “Does it feel like those horrible cats are always breathing down your neck?”

  Peter and Kelly laughed, while Deanna gave her husband a glare of mock indignation. “Don’t bad-mouth the Pride. You’ll hurt their feelings.”