The December Deal

by Dana Volney

  “We should put the lights on before we get to the rest of these fine ornaments.”

  He stood on the right of the tree, and she manned the other side. He started on the bottom, making sure the cord would reach the plug, and handed the strand off to her to wrap around her side. Their fingers didn’t touch, but his heartbeat started to pick up in anticipation of the strand getting smaller.

  One more round and nothing. Another round and nothing. Anticipation was growing as their eyes met. Was she thinking the same thing? Maybe. But should they be? She’d married him for money, and as far as he could tell, it was just because she wanted it. That wasn’t exactly the type of person he wanted to be with. Or stay married to.

  He watched the smaller ball of lights pass through her fingers and reached for it, his fingers grazing her wrist and palm. Prickles crawled up his arm, and he focused on the tree, no longer sure of what to do. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to feel her lips on his and hold her close to him. There wasn’t any good that would come of it, and they still had over eleven months to go on the deal. He didn’t like messy. He didn’t do messy. He kept things neat and clean and orderly. Starting a relationship with Lilia wouldn’t be any of those.

  “We’re just going to make it.” She stood on her tiptoes to reach a higher branch. “You’ll have to do the rest.”

  He laced the lights all the way up, and she plugged in the strand. “Perfect.” She stood behind but closer to him. “It’s a good thing you have high ceilings since you went for what I imagine to be the biggest tree in the lot.”

  He took one step backward, and they were nearly arm in arm.

  “We had a fake tree growing up.” She chuckled as she reached for the green ornament she’d first uncovered. “It was kind of sad, but by the time we put all the decorations up, it shined like none other. I swear my mom had something for every inch.”

  They started unwrapping his childhood memories and placing them carefully on the tree. Lilia wasn’t acting differently or awkward, so he needed to snap out of it—she didn’t even know he’d thought about kissing her.

  “What type of blog posts were you going to write today?”

  “You know, I don’t really know. I haven’t done anything lately that I’d normally write about. No travel. No exotic food.”

  “Feel free to tell the tale of tree decorating.”

  “As riveting as that sounds, I probably won’t.” She winked, and he nearly forgot how to put a hook on a branch.

  “Do you talk about your dad on there? What’s it called again?” He should check it out and see what she did for a living.

  “Made to Wander. And, no, I don’t talk about it on there.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s too personal.” She sipped her coffee and looked at the tree, not him.

  “Isn’t that the point of a blog?”

  “I don’t want to share. Not yet anyway. It’s all too real then.”

  His own life was becoming all too real. Had it been silly or just plain naïve of him to think he could make a serious commitment to someone and then not feel anything at all? Were whatever feelings he was having even real? His Christmas tree efforts had cheered her up, but now he was the one who wasn’t sure where his life was headed.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “Merry Christmas.” A short, brown-haired woman wearing a red sweater with a Christmas tree brooch answered the door.

  Vincent went through the door first, giving his mother a big hug.

  Lilia took a deep breath. Once all of the initial meetings were out of the way, then she wouldn’t be so nervous. She had no reason to be anxious in the first place—she didn’t actually need to impress Vincent’s family or win over his mom. They were already married. There was no disapproval that could change that now. Besides, none of it was real. Everything he did was for show—like coming to the hospital to keep up the façade. And all of the things she’d done were for the exact same reason.

  “Mom, this is Lilia. Lilia, Birdie.” Vincent kept his hand on her lower back during the introductions.

  Lilia extended her hand only to have it pushed to the side.

  “Nonsense.” Mrs. Morgenstern embraced her.

  “I’ll put this in the fridge.” Vincent disappeared down the hallway with a Jell-O salad she’d made and rolls they’d picked up at the store.

  “It’s nice to meet you.” Lilia said as air left her lungs, and they weren’t easy to refill with how tightly Birdie had her arms wrapped around her.

  “I’m glad to finally meet the woman who wears the family ring.”

  “Family ring?” She held up her left hand. So her suspicions were accurate about the ring being old. She hadn’t expected it to be a family heirloom though. She’d just thought he went to a pawn store and lucked out.

  It sparkled in the recessed light of the living room, which could easily fit a twelve-foot tree with no problem.

  “It’s beautiful.” She put her hand down, rubbing the smooth band with her thumb.

  “And it’s stunning on you. Come and sit. Dinner is ready.” Mrs. Morgenstern sat on one side of a black, six-person table, and Vincent and Lilia secured the place settings across from her.

  “I’m sorry to have missed the wedding.” Birdie glowered at Vincent and then turned a pleasant smile to Lilia. “I’m pleased you will be hosting a party though. I’ve sent Jan the guest list for our side.”

  Lilia’s stomach knotted, and suddenly the baked ham didn’t smell so good. This reception deal was like the wedding all over again, except in front of people she knew and loved. What if they figured out they were faking it like Lena had? What then?

  “No one was at the wedding, Mom.” Vincent unfolded a napkin and placed it in his lap. “You weren’t intentionally not invited.”

  “We moved pretty fast on the whole deal.” Lilia sucked in a breath at her word choice and glanced at Vincent. “I mean, love. We just went with it.” She picked up a dish filled with green beans cooked in bacon bits and spooned them onto her plate, not making eye contact with either of them.

  When she passed the white dish, Vincent’s sexy grin almost made her laugh. Yeah, she’d gotten tongue-tied. She certainly couldn’t do that in a week around people who might not know why their marriage was suspect. She finished filling her plate and dug into the food—a full mouth couldn’t make an idiot out of her.

  “Do you want children, Lilia?”

  The mashed potatoes she was swallowing almost went down the wrong pipe, and she started to cough.

  “Mom.”

  “Well, I’m getting old, and I want grandkids. Silver is probably never going to settle down, so you’re who I’m pinning those hopes and dreams on.”

  Talk about pressure. He said no kids. Lilia was starting to get the distinct vibe that Birdie did not know the marriage was merely to keep Vincent as the head of the company. And wasn’t that interesting?

  “Yes,” Lilia said, “I do.” She really did, just probably not with Vincent. Definitely with a real husband though.

  Vincent slowly turned toward her, and a distinct look of panic flittered across his gaze.

  “You do?” he asked.

  “Wonderful. How soon?” Birdie smiled wide as she stabbed a piece of ham with her fork.

  “Not yet,” Lilia said. “Probably years from now.” Her answer should satisfy both inquiring minds.

  Now she was certain Vincent hadn’t filled his mother in on what was going on. Lilia would be reading that contract tonight. If there was a provision about kids in there, she was gone. She’d specifically said that was not an option. She’d only thought about kissing him, and almost did when they were putting up the Christmas lights, but she was not going to bring a kid into a fake marriage. It’s not like she dreamed about him or thought about him when he was at work or ached to slip her hand in his.

  She could play along. That’s what she’d agreed to do. “We won’t disappoint.” She reached down and laid her hand on Vincent’s thigh and squ
eezed. “Will we?” she said through clenched teeth as she locked eyes with him.

  His blue eyes were apologetic, but hope also flitted across his face. Hope? Maybe, or she was just hallucinating.

  Vincent gazed back at his mother. “Everything has been so fast that we’ll probably wait a while to add more to our duo.”

  She smiled and removed her hand from his leg. She’d kept it there too long. And not long enough.

  • • •

  Vincent helped clear the table and do the dishes so that his mom and Lilia could talk. Leaving them alone wasn’t ideal, especially after the questions his mom had pulled earlier in the evening.

  His mom wandered into the kitchen to pour herself a cup of hot chocolate from the coffee pot, then leaned against the counter. He would have had a shot at his holiday not being completely ruined had she kept on walking.

  “Lilia is lovely.”

  “She is.” He wiped his hands on a dishtowel and tossed it on the counter. “You seem to be forgetting what all of this is about.”

  “I’m not the only one.”

  “Please. I’m well aware of my situation.” He glanced to the living room. Lilia’s blond profile peeked over the couch as she sipped from her mug. What if they’d met under different circumstances? Would they have dated, or would he have found out that she wanted him for his money? He wished he could trust her, but he couldn’t bring himself to do that. He liked her, wanted to kiss her, sure, but that didn’t mean anything in the long term. They were destined to have a fake marriage and then go their separate ways.

  “Sometimes it’s best to embrace the path you’ve chosen.”

  “Now you sound like Dad.”

  “And you have the same look on your face that he gave me for forty years.”

  His mom was seeing what she wanted to.

  “Good night, Mom.” He kissed her on the cheek. “Merry Christmas.”

  He found their jackets and helped Lilia into hers, and they were in his truck heading home within ten minutes. He’d thought tonight would be no big deal. He’d been wrong. He hadn’t brought a girlfriend home since high school, and having Lilia there was odd. It was odd that she fit right in, got along with his mom, and didn’t seem uncomfortable at all. Which, in turn, pleased him. It made him downright happy, and that was the issue. Lilia was not supposed to make him happy. She was supposed to be the answer to a business problem.

  “I thought you said your mom knew about our deal.” Lilia did not sound happy. She adjusted her position in the passenger seat to face him on their way home.

  “She would naturally suspect, but I didn’t say anything.”

  “So what exactly does she think the deal is?”

  “Are you angry?” He wasn’t going to sit here and try to guess her attitude.

  “Yeah. Kind of.” Her tone now wasn’t as convincing. “I didn’t expect those questions.”

  “I don’t know what her deal is.”

  His mother was only making things worse—just like when she hadn’t stopped Dad from putting in the damn clause. She could assume whatever she wanted, but in a year there would be a divorce.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Vincent set his keys on the hook by the garage door. The sooner Christmas Eve ended, the better for all of them. His mom was out of her mind. She knew the deal. This wasn’t a real marriage; they weren’t starry-eyed about their future and kids. He’d never admit that he’d held his breath, hoping to see longing in Lilia’s eyes. But there hadn’t been—she’d been stunned all right, but not happy at the prospect.

  “Stay right there.” Lilia ran up the stairs.

  She’d handled his mom well tonight, and his wife’s mood had vastly improved the closer they got to the front door of his house. My wife. I haven’t used that as much as I should. The term was weird because in his reality that’s not what they were—only on paper.

  He sat down on the dark leather couch and marveled at the Christmas tree they’d decorated together. The white lights, gold ornaments mixed with ones from his past, and red accents made for a captivating view.

  What was she up to? He glanced at the open staircase and second floor. His stomach grumbled at his influx of nerves. He was only one week in; there was no way he was going to survive fifty-one more weeks of knowing but not knowing what he wanted out of this arrangement. It was no longer about his company or her check. It was about more—he felt the pull toward her. He was ready to admit that now. Only he didn’t know where she stood.

  “I have a present for you.” She sat near him on the couch and held out a very long, very large, red, neatly wrapped package.

  “You shouldn’t have.” He took the weight of it in his hands and set it down in front of him. It was heavy, and he was baffled.

  “I wanted to.”

  He tore into the wrapping, never having been so excited about a present before in his adult life. He couldn’t wait to know what she’d thought he needed for a gift.

  “A Fender?” He slid the guitar case out of the box and opened it to find an acoustic guitar he’d wanted since he was young.

  How could she have possibly known? His throat tightened as he slid his hand over the body of the polished, light wood instrument.

  He was such a jerk—he hadn’t gotten her anything. He sucked as a husband.

  “Thank you.” He locked eyes with her and searched her face for some indication of why.

  “You’re welcome. Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas.”

  “Play something.”

  “I have no idea how.”

  “Well, I guess you’re going to need this then.” She produced a green envelope with her wide smile.

  He raised his eyebrows. There was more—more to the already most perfect thing she ever could’ve given him. He was beyond words. Just when he thought he had her figured out, she went and did something like this.

  He gazed at her wide eyes and perfect, silky skin and lips. He didn’t care what was in that envelope, he wanted her kisses for Christmas.

  He purposefully grazed his fingers over the side of her wrist. The soft touch hit him in all the right places. The delusion that he was going to keep his feelings for Lilia purely business was slipping away quicker and quicker with each day.

  He flipped open the flap of the envelope and pulled out a thick card. “Lessons?”

  “Yep. Now you have no excuse not to learn.”

  The Christmas party—that’s when he’d told her he’d always wanted to learn. They’d only been married for three days at that point. And yet she’d been paying attention.

  “You’re amazing.” His sincere, easy comment rolled off of his lips.

  “I just wanted to let you know I appreciate you and our arrangement. You’re the best fake husband I’ve ever had.” Her eyes danced in the twinkle of the white lights.

  Fake husband—the phrase he hated more and more with each day that passed.

  CHAPTER NINE

  On Christmas, Carrigan’s Pub was filled with people, half of whom Vincent had been introduced to and all of whose names he wouldn’t remember. He didn’t feel like meeting any more people.

  “How you doing?” Luke sidled up to him and slapped his back.

  Luke had been frosty at first, but as the party had gone on they’d been able to talk more and Luke had settled down. Or maybe Luke thought Vincent was less of a scumbag now and just a guy in love.

  “Faring nicely. There’s no shortage of entertainment.” There was poker happening in the loft area of the pub behind them, dancing, and tables filled with people chatting. Not to mention the food—he’d never seen that kind of spread before. This crowd could feast off the food in the room for a week.

  “Nah, we do it up right.” Candace caught his attention from across the room, and with a nod, he was gone.

  Vincent spotted Lilia walking around the bar, and he headed straight for her. A Christmas song played in the background.

  “Here ya go.” She offered him a beer,
but instead he took both of them out of her hand and set them on the bar.

  “Dance with me?”

  He held her palms, putting the right one on his heart and letting the other one go so he could slide his hand around her waist.

  “Your family is big.” He swayed them to the music, and his mind blanked for a second when she relaxed and leaned into him.

  “Not everyone here is family. Most are just close friends.”

  “I’m glad your dad is back.”

  “Yeah.” Her lazy smile touched his soul. “He’ll have to go back down for another round of drugs and tests, but they are hopeful.”

  “He’s out of the woods?”

  “For now. Thanks for being a good sport about the party. I know this is a little overwhelming.”

  “It’s easy as long as I’m with you.”

  “I’m glad we’re friends.”

  He felt the pull toward her and couldn’t resist—didn’t want to resist. And it wasn’t a friend type of attraction.

  He kissed her. There was no expectation with the kiss; he needed to feel her lips on his, if only for a moment. Then she opened her mouth to him, and their tongues collided. His palm slid further across her back as he pulled her closer to him. There was no guarantee of a next kiss, and he wanted to soak this one in.

  She pulled back, and the look in her eye was not anger but something else. He knew what he wanted it to be.

  “I should get back”—her gaze fell to his lips—“to the juke box. I’m on quarter duty.” She pulled away from him and picked up her beer from the bar.

  He watched her walk away. She glanced behind her shoulder before taking a sip of beer and joining a group that included Lena.

  Well, he couldn’t stand in the corner all night, and he certainly couldn’t up and leave. He took a deep breath to calm his buzzing body. He was falling in love with her. For real. His attraction to all things Lilia was undeniable and taking over his life.

  He chugged his beer and helped himself to another before heading her way. He’d stand by her side all night, and maybe they’d never talk about the only kiss they’d ever had that wasn’t prompted by an outside force.