by Jean Oram
“Let’s try and keep it lighter from here on out, okay?”
He’d nodded. “Ethan offers his congratulations, by the way.” He’d gestured to the house behind him. A black cat was sitting in the window, watching them.
“Told you he’d have heard already,” she’d replied with a teasing lilt. “Blueberry Springs is small, and marriage and babies are usually the biggest things to happen to people.”
“He didn’t call me lovesick, though,” Burke had replied, referring to her earlier comment. “And he loved that I stood up to your mom.”
Jill had sighed, looking less the schoolgirl and more the peeved wife. “And did he say I’m lucky to have you?”
“That’s implied,” Burke had said with a teasing grin. “And I was thinking—you can divorce me for being too protective. Win-win, right?” He’d winked and she’d laughed.
“Yeah, that might work.”
And just like that things had settled, that small barb of tension between them melting away.
“And you know, even so-called modern marriages have a bit of I-have-your-back-honey built into them.”
The next thing he’d known they were hanging out at the range, Jill arranging for weapons and ammo.
Armed and dangerous. Just how every man liked his wife to be after he blew her plans to pieces.
At least there were a lot of witnesses around in case she decided to take care of him, so to speak.
While Burke waited for Jill to finish chatting with the guy behind the counter about the weather, her marriage—she was still trying for the modern marriage of independence angle, he noted—the man’s mother’s health and pretty much the state of the entire town of Blueberry Springs, he checked emails on his phone. As he replied to Gulliver about Andrea’s impending leave, a text popped up from Autumn. She had tickets to a hockey game tomorrow and was hoping he could join her. Box seats. His favorite team.
He ignored the message and returned his cell to his back pocket.
Moments later the phone vibrated and, unable to resist, he checked it.
A scantily clad selfie from Autumn.
Oh, boy.
He deleted the image and returned the device to his pocket once again, wondering how he was going to get her to take it down a notch—or ten—and move along to someone else.
He didn’t even want to think about how she was going to react when she found out he was married. Maybe he should let her hear it from him instead of from the world?
“Ready?” Jill was carrying their weapons, as well as ear protection. “We’re over here.”
Burke brought his mind to his present problem. His wife, and the town that now thought he was real.
She handed him a revolver that was surprisingly heavy, as well as solid. He’d shot a gun twice, but he’d forgotten how serious they felt.
“Go first,” he said.
She nodded, securing her ear protection as she stepped to the counter, her feet spread. She wore an expressionless game face, a dimple appearing in her cheek as she concentrated on the paper target strung up at the other end of the building. The gun kicked as she shot off three quick rounds, all of them hitting the middle of the sheet.
“Nice job.” His voice sounded slightly hollow from hearing himself through the earmuffs.
While keeping the muzzle of the gun pointed down, she lifted the muffler from her left ear and he echoed the move.
“Sorry?” she asked.
He could hear a phone ringing and he glanced at his own. It was quiet.
“Nice job.”
“Thanks. It’s mine.” She waved her cell as she lifted it to her ear. “Hello?” She returned it to her pocket. “That’s the fourth time this week I’ve had someone hang up when I answer. It’s getting annoying.”
She scowled and they covered their ears again as she pushed the button beside her, sending the target farther back. It went back and back and back until Burke wasn’t even sure he could see the inner circle on the man-shaped silhouette any longer. She shot three more times, then brought the paper forward.
There was one large hole where every single bullet had gone through the center.
“That’s sexy,” he said, rubbing his chest with his free hand. He felt a bit intimidated—which she’d predicted earlier—but not so much he was going to worry about his manhood when he didn’t measure up to her skills.
She flipped her earmuffs off one ear again and he did the same. “Your turn.”
“Hit the paper, right?”
She smirked. “If you can.”
The smirk didn’t help his ego. Not at all.
She prepped a new target for him and he managed to knock the corner of the large paper from about ten yards.
“Remind me not to expect you to ever save me in a gunfight,” she said loud enough for him to hear through the earmuffs.
“Don’t worry. I’ll be hiding behind you.”
She laughed and he wanted to kiss her. All that shining confidence was sexy.
He also liked the way her jeans hugged her hips, and the way that laugh had lightened her entire demeanor.
They finished shooting, then made their way to the lobby, where Jill called people by name, selecting a bag of chips from the concession. The man behind the counter waved her money away.
Jill was a whole different person here. She was relaxed, smiling, at ease and happy, not wound up and stressed. This was her haven, her safe place where she blew off steam—apparently a fair amount, judging by how well the other regulars knew her.
Burke found himself once again wishing to kiss her.
He remembered the one from the restaurant. It had been two weeks ago, but yeah, he definitely wanted to kiss her again. Just like that. Maybe he could convince her that since he’d messed up being the “indifferent husband,” they could do “whirlwind mistake” instead. That could be fun.
She shared the chips with him and they walked through the building, bumping shoulders and laughing about inane things like friends who’ve known each other forever often do.
“This is nice,” he said as they moved toward the parking lot. “Thanks for not shooting me.”
“Oh, there’s still time,” Jill said, darting a playful glance at him.
There was a stack of bales in the distance and the popping of paint guns. Kids covered in paint were making their way out, smiling and laughing.
“Paintball, too?” he asked. He liked paintball. The fact that everyone was running and ducking usually leveled the playing field and made him look a bit more skilled.
“My dad added it after Nicola and I created a paintball course for an event. It’s been really popular.”
“Who’s Nicola? Your sister?”
“No, she’s a friend. My sister’s too girlie. We used to work for the town together.”
“You and your sister, or you and Nicola?” He took the last chip and popped it into her mouth.
“Nicola,” she mumbled as she chewed. “My sister and I did work together once, though.”
“How was that?”
She made a face, her earlier tension returning.
“That good, huh?”
“It didn’t end well.”
“Do you two still talk?”
“I live in her converted garage, so yes. It wasn’t about us, it was…complicated.”
“There’s that word again.”
“Fine. It’s a long story then. Better?”
He nodded and took the empty chip package from her, tossing it in a large barrel meant for trash. As he did, Jill called out to a tall, broad man who resembled a lumberjack.
“Hey, Jillycakes. Who’s this?” The man was watching Burke as though he knew exactly who he was. Intrigued and smiling, but there was a hint of paternal protective wariness that straightened Burke’s spine.
“Her husband, Burke Carver,” he said gamely, shaking the man’s hand. “You must be Argo Armstrong.” His father-in-law crushed pretty much every bone in his hand without even cracking a satisf
ied smile.
“So you’re the guy who eloped with my baby girl, and are just showing your face now?”
“Daddy!”
Argo crossed his arms, rolling back on his heels. Burke was fairly certain the man was considering where to start disemboweling him. Start high or start low?
“Yes, sir,” he replied bravely. “That’s me.”
“You must be quite the man to get my girl to drop that fancy algorithmic dating service and run off with you in an uncharacteristic moment of spontaneity.”
“Dad,” Jill warned again.
Algorithmic dating service? Yeah, that sounded like Jill.
Argo broke the tough-guy act in a flash and beamed, clapping Burke on the shoulder. He said, “Aw, come on in here, son.” He brought him in for a quick man-hug. “You’re family now.”
“Thanks,” Burke said, feeling stunned by the sudden turnaround.
“But you take good care of her or you’ll have her daddy—that would be your father-in-law—to answer to. You understand?”
“I do, sir.”
“Good. Because if you hurt her I’ll have you strung up so fast you won’t even have time to holler for help, you understand?” The man looked ready to go Thor on him and bring down the hammer if he stepped out of line.
“Dad,” Jill stated firmly.
Wow. This was all feeling pretty real. Neila’s dad hadn’t given him a speech like that. In fact, nobody ever had. No wonder Jill was still single. Her father had likely scared off any potential suitors.
Burke nodded crisply. “Understood.”
“I like this one,” Argo said to Jill. He slung an arm around Burke’s shoulder, walking and talking. “We’re going to have to get to know you better. Take a men’s trip. Do you like fishing? Bowling? Do you play an instrument? Did Jill tell you I used to be in a band? What about—”
Jill said with a laugh, “There’s plenty of time to get to know Burke.”
Burke shot her a look. There was? And why was she smiling?
“And no,” she added quickly, “he doesn’t play an instrument, so you can just stop that pipe dream in its tracks.”
“I do, actually,” he said.
“Get out of town,” Argo said, smacking Burke on the chest as he stopped walking so he could face him more fully. “What do you play?”
“Drums.”
“You do?” Jill was watching him with a look so skeptical it could have been in the dictionary as a visual definition of the very word.
“Right on, right on,” Argo said. “I play bass guitar. We have a band that could use a drummer. We practice every Tuesday night unless Alvin’s feeling crotchety and won’t play sax for us. So pretty much all the time, actually.”
“Dad, he’s not joining your band.”
“Fine, fine.” He pulled Jill into a one-armed half hug, kissing her on the forehead. “There’s time to work on that. I’m excited for the two of you.” He turned to face Burke again, releasing his daughter. “So? When do you move to town? I’ve heard you’ve been married for some time? Why the big secret?”
“It’s a long story,” Jill said, walking on her father’s other side.
“I happen to like long stories.”
“I’ll tell you later,” she said.
“It’s no longer I, it’s we. You’re married now.” He stopped and placed a hand on each of their shoulders, addressing them both. “You two understand that? You’re a team. No secrets. You have each other’s backs. Always.” When he seemed to feel they had it through their heads, he dropped his hold. “Now, when are you moving, Burke? I have a truck you can borrow, and I’ll round up a bunch of guys to get your stuff out here. Name the date.”
“He has work in the city,” Jill said quickly.
“And?”
“We haven’t figured things out yet.”
“Jill without a plan?” Argo’s eyebrows shot high and he turned to Burke. “Jill without a plan?”
“Yes, sir,” Burke replied, feeling uneasy, like he was letting his own dad down, and as though he should have an ironclad plan at the ready. Not that Burke knew his father, but he kind of imagined this was what it would be like if he did. That tough-love thing he got from Maggie—only more extreme. You knew they were on your side, but you also knew that they’d kick your butt across town and back if you let them down.
For some reason, Burke really didn’t want to let Argo down.
7
Jill sat at the bar beside Burke in the local pub, Brew Babies, sighing into her pale ale. He’d met her dad. Her hands were shaking as she lifted the glass to her lips. She’d thought her father would think the spontaneity of her marriage to be fun, and he had. What she hadn’t counted on was how enthused he’d been. It was going to break his heart when Burke didn’t come around again, didn’t move to Blueberry Springs, didn’t join his band, didn’t go on his man-trip.
Her father had been disappointed by Jodi’s husband, Gareth, for years and had been counting on Jill to find a man to fill the vacant son role. And Hayes, for the record, had been a disappointment as well. In fact, her dad had left him in the fishing shack in the middle of Blueberry Lake on their first and only man-trip, stating he couldn’t spend another minute with him.
She hadn’t meant for things to progress with Burke’s visit from a casual “hello, this is my husband” to whatever had happened today. Everyone was so thrilled for her. And Burke was so perfect he was making things impossible.
This was not what a casual, businesslike marriage looked like.
It felt real. And even worse, she liked spending time with Burke. Liked it a lot.
She moaned internally. What was she going to do? Divorcing Burke was going to create such a stir.
Amy Carrick, one of the bartenders, set a fragrant pizza in front of Jill and Burke.
Pizza, then send Burke back to the city and spend weeks fielding questions on where Mr. Perfect was hiding out. She’d have to figure out a way to downplay their perfect little marriage.
As they dished pieces of pizza onto their plates, Jill couldn’t help but feel a bit as though they were on a date.
“I like the addition of the feta,” she called to Amy, who was responsible for the pub’s menu.
“Thanks.” Amy turned to Moe Harper, the manager, who was also her best friend. “Told you!”
Moe shrugged in his wrinkled shirt, giving his colleague a soft smile. “You’re usually right.”
Amy raised her hands in the air. “You all heard that? Triumphant at long last.” She bowed grandly.
Jill high-fived her when she righted herself again, and turned to Burke, who had downed his beer, no doubt unsettled from the way her father had adopted him on the spot—after a little protective fatherly what-for, of course.
“I’m sorry about my dad. He’s been waiting for a real son-in-law for a while.”
“A real one?”
She shrugged, feeling her cheeks flush at how from Burke’s point of view it likely sounded as though she was falling for their own act. “One that’s interested in the same things as him.”
Burke wiped his hands on a napkin. “Ah.”
“I didn’t know you played the drums.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know.” When Amy gestured to Burke’s empty glass, he shook his head, refusing a second. “I have to drive.”
“He was a little over-the-top,” Jill said.
“Don’t apologize or be embarrassed by him. I think it’s wonderful how kind and welcoming he was. It’s obvious how much he cares for you and you’re lucky to have that.” Burke fell silent for a moment, his whole demeanor seeming to flatten somehow.
“Family is special,” he said, as he tipped up his glass to retrieve the last trickle of beer.
Burke took another slice of pizza and bit into it, leaving a string of cheese sticking to his chin. Jill reached over and wiped it away.
“Is this him?” asked an excited voice from behind her.
Jill twisted on her stool to
find Emma and Ginger standing behind them at the bar.
Burke turned, confirming his identity, causing Emma to squeal and hug Jill, just about pulling her off her seat. “I cannot believe you two snuck off and got married! Why didn’t you tell me!”
“And you didn’t even get a dress from me,” Ginger scolded. “I would have given you a special deal.”
“Sorry.”
“Tell us everything,” Emma demanded.
“We got married,” Burke said simply when Jill looked at him uncertainly. “Emma Carrington” He shook her hand. “It’s been a while.”
“It has. Good to see you. This is Ginger McGinty. She owns the bridal shop in town and you denied her the chance to make Jill look amazing.”
It was Burke’s turn to apologize.
Amy came down the bar with more napkins. “You got married?”
Jill nodded.
“Sweet. I didn’t know that. Congratulations.”
“Whenever you see a woman in town who looks like Jill, make sure you turn and give Jill a giant kiss, okay?” Emma told Burke.
“Emma!” Jill laughed, pleased by her friend’s loyalty.
“Why?” Burke asked, frowning.
“Her identical twin sister, Jodi, thinks she wrote the book on men, and she’s always rubbing it in that Jill’s still single and unlucky in love.”
“But no more!” Ginger crowed.
Burke nodded. “I can do that.” He sent Jill a simmering look full of promise.
“Really, it’s not necessary,” she said, her mind all too ready and willing to imagine what his giant kiss might feel like.
Burke addressed Emma. “Something like this?” He slipped to the edge of his stool, cupping one hand behind Jill’s head.
She met his eyes. No. Nope. Surely he was not going to demonstrate here. Just because the modern marriage plan wasn’t working out so well, it didn’t mean they were going to act like newlyweds and really give the town something to talk about. He was just playing a form of Truth or Dare. He’d promised.
But he tipped his head toward hers, their lips meeting.
He was such a big, fat promise breaker.
He kissed her slowly and sweetly, bringing her to the edge of her seat as he threatened to break the kiss. She wanted more. She didn’t want it to end.
