by Caroline Lee
“You mean that permanent taco truck thing beside the hotel? No, I haven't, although the lady at the front desk recommended it.”
“That's because Ciran is married to my cousin Roxie. So everybody at the hotel eats there constantly.”
He shrugged. “I was kind of thinking about taking you someplace fancier. We could even drive over to Spokane if you wanted.”
Smiling, she shook her head. “I guarantee you, these tacos taste just as good, if not better, than any fancy restaurant in any big city.”
He stared at her a moment longer, then shrugged. “Well, if that's what my wife wants...”
And that's why Katie was grinning so hugely when their little caravan pulled up in front of the taco truck. Would she ever get used to someone like Kenneth calling her his wife? Even if their marriage was just in name only, even if it was just to fool his family, even if it was for a good cause...she liked the idea of being Mrs. Kenneth Weston.
They ordered six tacos—two each of ground beef, asada, and barbacoa—and took them over to the picnic tables. It was still early enough in the season that most of the customers were ordering the food to go, but despite the nip in the air, which made Katie glad for the little denim jacket she’d had in her backseat, the sun was shining and the birds were cheeping. And the sunlight glinted off her brand-new wedding ring.
It was the most wonderful day.
The two of them spoke about all sorts of things over their tacos, which Kenneth admitted were the best he'd ever had.
She smirked. “Just you wait until dessert!” Ciran’s sopapillas had to be the best in the whole world.
Kenneth dabbed at his mouth with a napkin, and she hid her smile at his polite manners. They seemed out of place here at a picnic table beside a taco truck, but the man was wearing a thousand-dollar suit, and it was their wedding day.
“So,” he began. “Cait?”
“Yes?”
“Your best friend has the same name as you?”
“Oh!” She realized he hadn't been talking about her. “Yes! We met years ago when we were both working as lifeguards at River’s End Ranch. There were four of us. Joey, and the three girls our boss called The Kates. One is still working there, I think.” She took the time to spell out the different versions of their names. “Cait did all sorts of odd jobs around the ranch, until last year, when she met Archibald St. John— You know, the famous actor? Anyhow, in what has to be the most romantic story ever, it turns out the two of them are perfect for each other, and are jaunting all over the world having some really amazing adventures in between his filming.”
The corners of his lips tugged down, and although she didn't know the cause, she decided he had to be the most handsome man she'd ever met, even with that stern expression.
“Most romantic story ever? Isn't your own sister dating a Hollywood heartthrob herself?”
How did he…? Oh yeah, all that research. She nodded. “Yep. Heather and Jonathan Ravenwing are a thing now. A pretty serious thing, from everything I've seen.”
They spent the rest of the meal gossiping about the way her cousins and siblings had found love, and she liked the way he listened so intently. A lot of guys’ eyes would have glazed over at all this romantic mush, but not his.
When lunch was over, she stood up. “I'm going to go get us some dessert.”
He groaned. “I'm not sure I could eat anything else!”
“Don't worry, we can get these to go. I don't know about you, but after today's excitement, I could go for vegging out in front of a movie with some junk food.”
He shifted a little awkwardly and glanced towards the hotel across the parking lot. “I already have a room, but I guess… I mean, depending what you wanted to do— Oh! Or did you mean vegging out alone?” His eyes got wide as if he'd realized a mistake. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to presume…”
She started giggling. “Of course I want to hang out with you! We're married now, aren't we? Who else would I rather veg out in front of silly movies with than my husband?”
His expression softened. “I'd like that.”
She decided it was up to her to take charge here. “I have an extra bedroom in my house. Well, let's be honest, I have a twin bed in my office. It's definitely not as fancy as anything you're used to, and the room service isn't that great, but if you were interested in hanging out together…?”
He smiled and reached over to take her hand. “I think that sounds amazing. Thank you.”
And that's how, to Katie surprise, she found herself not only married, but living with her husband by the end of the day. They spent their wedding day watching James Garner movies and cracking sarcastic one-liners at the screen and making each other laugh. They ate the sopapillas, and when he declared he was too stuffed to eat dinner, she made her special garlic, onion, and cheddar cheese popcorn, and since he wasn't one of those Philistines who hated cilantro, she added that liberally.
It felt so right to sit next to him on the couch, sharing a big bowl of popcorn with his arm around her. His lips occasionally brushed the top of her hair, and each time, she shivered and smiled. She might have just met him, but it felt so right to call Kenneth her own.
And that evening, after she'd given him the “this is your bathroom, here's your water cup, the coffee maker’s by the sink” routine, he kissed her goodnight.
And it was perfect.
Living with Katie certainly was nice. After years of living alone in his large penthouse apartment, Kenneth honestly hadn't thought about what it would be like to live with someone else again. Especially living with someone in such a small house. He wasn't sure of the exact measurements, but he suspected the entirety of Katie's three-bedroom mid-century home could fit inside the living room of his apartment. So yeah, they stepped on each other's toes a few times, but it didn't seem to matter as much as he thought it would.
Because it was Katie he was sharing the house with. Being in close quarters with her just seemed right. He quickly learned how to make her coffee the way she liked it, and he loved she had breakfast waiting for him when he got back from his morning run. And although he couldn't cook, he introduced her to the wonders of the fluffernutter sandwich, and he didn't think he'd ever forget her expression of wonder after she bit into it.
“I think I'm in love,” she mumbled around a mouthful of peanut butter and marshmallow fluff. “ ‘Ank oo.”
And Kenneth couldn't help but wish she wasn't talking about the sandwich. That realization had been a bit of a shock. He wanted her to love him?
Well, why not? He was married to her, wasn't he?
Then he had to remind himself, yes, they were married, but this was not a permanent arrangement. He knew it, and more importantly, she knew it. There was no way she would do something so foolish, as to allow herself to fall in love with someone she would no longer be married to in a matter of months.
Now, he just had to remind himself of that: No falling in love.
But that didn't stop them from enjoying each other's company. In the weeks following their marriage, they fell into an easy routine. Katie spent a portion of each day curating and cataloging her soaps , as well as managing her social media accounts and online ordering. He liked the fact she only opened her website up once every few weeks and only allowed ordering at certain times. It turned each soap launch into something special, and the fans were almost rabid in their feeding-frenzy attempts to get their new favorite bars.
Kenneth stayed up until after midnight with her on launch day, and he was happy to help her pack the various orders and take them to the post office for shipping. She laughed and seemed thrilled with his help.
I think we did that in half the time it usually takes me! Thanks for your help! If you're going to be a part of my business, I could really expand…”
Her appreciation made him swell with pride, even as he reminded himself she was laughing. She knew as well as he did this marriage wouldn't last long enough for him to be a part of her business for anything
permanent.
Still, it was nice pretending. She’d rearranged her office so he could have more the space, and he spent more time than usual designing. Maybe it was the fact he was surrounded by Katie's art, but he was allowing the other side of his brain more freedom these days. So much more, even Penny noticed.
“I'm telling you, Kenneth,” she said on the phone to him one day, “these are some of the best designs you’ve given me. Not all of them are winners, of course, but the sheer volume you're producing is amazing. I've shuffled them around into various collections, and I’d really like your feedback. Do you want to come down and look at my thoughts? Or should I upload them to the cloud?”
Kenneth leaned back in his chair and looked around at the small room Katie had let him use. It was stuffed to the brim with her stacked out-of-season clothing storage, her packaging supplies for the soap, and the two suitcases he'd brought from Boise. Still, in the short time he’d been here, it had become...
It had become home.
He smiled. “Thanks, Penny. Why don't you drop them in the cloud, and I'll take a look at them? I think I'd like to stick around here.”
On the other end of the line, he heard Penny's smile in her voice. “I'm really happy for you, Kenneth. You went about it oddly, but it sure sounds like you found a real winner. I'm glad you found Katie.”
“Yeah,” Kenneth admitted in a low voice. “I am too.”
The days passed, and Kenneth found himself contemplating that realization again and again. How had he gotten so lucky? Sure, he'd chosen Katie's profile, one out of hundreds, but through each round of vetting, he'd been drawn back to her. She was so different from what he thought he'd wanted out of life—she was often chaos to his order, emotion to his control—but he loved the way she contradicted him.
No. She complemented him.
They were on their way to his parents’ house one Tuesday, and he broached the subject.
“Does it ever bother you how different we are?”
She was driving and glanced over at him, her lovely eyes wide in surprise. “You think we're different?” She clicked her tongue, shook her head, and turned her attention back to the road. “We're not, you know. You like to be in control, but I think that's gotten you into trouble over the years. And because of that desire, you suppress the rest of yourself. But you and I aren't that different when you let yourself really feel.”
Kenneth frowned thoughtfully. “How do you know?”
He watched the corners of Katie's lips curl up impishly, and remembered what it felt like to taste those lips.
“Because I've seen the results, silly! When you let yourself really feel, when you admit to yourself you're not always in control, and let your mind just wander freely, that's when you create the most amazing things.” Her smile bloomed when she glanced at him once more. “Your gowns are beautiful, but your mind...” She looked away again, but her smile didn't waver. “Your mind is even more beautiful.”
Kenneth was floored. Humbled, frankly. He’d never had anyone tell him he had a beautiful mind. How could this woman say something with such certainty? How could this woman, who he’d only just met last month, know him so well?
Because, whispered the voice in the back of his head, she's your wife.
The word “wife” kept running through his mind as he let himself into the house he'd grown up in. Dad greeted them in the kitchen, his looks gaunter, and his smile a little wearier when he saw the fast food bag in Katie's hand.
“My favorite,” he said tiredly.
“I know.” Katie replied gently as she gave the older man a hug. “Why don't you sit down and enjoy it, and I'll get you some tea? Looks like you could use it.”
Kenneth was almost afraid to ask, but forced himself to anyway. “How are things?”
Dad met his eyes as he sunk into one of the kitchen chairs, and Kenneth knew the man understood what he was asking. And when Dad shook his head sadly, Kenneth understood that too.
He left Katie with Dad and moved into the living room where the hospice worker was caring for Mom. He'd visited once a day since he’d been in the area, but until that moment, he hadn't realized how bad his mother had gotten. When was the last time he saw her eyes open? When was the last time he saw her smile? He knew the morphine was constant now, which meant she wasn't eating or drinking that much either.
Had it worked? Had his plan worked? Now that Mom knew he was happy and settled, was she finally letting herself go?
The knowledge settled like a lead weight in his stomach. This is what he wanted, he reminded himself. He wanted her to stop hurting, to stop having to fight. He wanted her to find peace.
But he didn't want to have to say goodbye.
The hospice nurse moved out of the way, and he sat in the chair by Mom’s bedside. This is where Dad had sat during their fake wedding ceremony. No, it had been real, and so were the feelings he'd developed for Katie.
He sighed and reached for Mom's hand. It was so frail, the skin paper-thin. Soon, he knew, her nails would start discoloring, or maybe they already had, but Marybeth had covered them in cheerful pink nail polish, so he couldn't know for sure. He stared at her tiny hand in his, remembering the way the same hand used to comfort him. Used to stroke his hair and wipe his tears and teach him to be the man he’d become.
“I love Katie,” he whispered, sitting there at his dying mother's bedside. “I didn't mean to, but I think I do.”
No. He didn't want Mom to hear that, even if she couldn’t really hear.
He shifted, closing her hand in his, and placed his other hand on her cheek. “I love you, Mom,” he said in a louder voice. “I'll always love you.”
Her eyelashes fluttered as if she was fighting her way out of the drug-induced sleep.
He tightened his hold. “I love you, and I need you to know that I'm happy. I'm happy with Katie. We—all of us—we’re happy. And healthy, and we're going to have a great future.” He couldn’t stop the tears forming in his eyes. “I promise, Mom.” He finished a whisper, “I'm happy.”
With what seemed like a great effort, her eyes fluttered open. He wasn't sure if she was really seeing him, or just reacting to his voice, but his heart lurched when he realized how much effort that small movement must have taken her.
“I love you, Mom,” he repeated yet again, determined she understand it.
Her lips parted slightly, but only air emerged, no sound. Still, he knew what it meant.
I love you too.
“You love me, I know, Mom.” He lifted her hand to his lips. “I know you love me, and I know you worry, but you don't have to anymore. We're fine here, and I promise you, we’ll be fine.” You can go. “I love you.”
Long after her eyes fluttered shut, he sat there holding her hand and watching her labored breathing. Then he lifted himself from the chair and leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead, the way he’d done since high school when he’d begun to tower over her. He inhaled deeply, knowing he’d never forget the way she smelled.
He hadn’t lied to her; he was happy with Katie. He could see a future with her. If only he hadn’t been so sure he was doing the right thing when he arranged this whole marriage in the first place! They’d be able to have a real future. Of course, they would have to consider a larger home, but it would be nice to live here again, to be nearer—
No. He couldn’t allow his imagination to take over. He was in control.
He inhaled again, then dropped another kiss on his mother’s forehead.
“I love you, Mom.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
“Are you doing alright?” Katie nudged Kenneth with her hip, where they both stood at the kitchen sink. “You've been quiet since yesterday.”
He took the plate from her when she was done washing it and began to dry. “Yeah,” he said with entirely too much nonchalance in his voice to be believable. “Just thinking, I guess.”
It had become somewhat of a tradition for them to do the dishes together after breakf
ast, and something she really enjoyed. Who would have thought having an almost complete stranger move into her space could be so much fun?
But he wasn't an almost complete stranger, was he? He was her husband, and the last few weeks had been really...nice. With the way they worked together, the way they complemented one another, it was easy to forget this marriage of theirs had been arranged on paper. It was easy to forget he didn't actually have any feelings for her.
Which was kind of important, because she was definitely developing feelings for him.
“Hey.” It was his turn to nudge her. “Thanks for sitting with my dad yesterday. I think he just needed a break, and he really likes you.”
“Of course!” She reached for the drain pull. “After all, that's my job, isn't it? Getting your family to like me, I mean.”
Beside her, he sucked in a breath, and she winced. Her eyes went wide as she watched the water swirling down the drain. Had she really just said that in her out-loud voice? Oh well, it was the truth, wasn't it?
He exhaled—was that a sigh?—and moved away from the sink. From over by the table, he said quietly, “Well, you succeeded. It was good to see Dad smile like that.”
She knew her lunch with his father had given him some time with his mom, and she was glad for it. “I’m happy to do it,” she whispered.
And she was. Kenneth was hurting, but so was the rest of his family. If a couple of greasy burgers would cheer Mr. Weston up, she’d happily bring them over every day.
“What about... What about your family?” he asked her.
The last of the water chased the soap suds down the drain, and she dried her hands and reached for the wedding ring she’d placed on the sill out of harm’s way. What about her family? In the weeks since their wedding—real or not—Katie had avoided mentioning him to her family. Of course, in a town like Quinn Valley, someone had noticed his sports car parked outside her house at all hours, who mentioned it to someone else, who mentioned it to Grams, who’d called and threatened to tell her parents unless she fessed up.
