The Closer: A Marriage of Convenience Romantic Comedy

by Kristy Marie

  “They’re here somewhere,” I tell her when she starts to cry.

  “Cooper! You here?”

  We both stop, our gazes meeting in the mirror. “It’s okay,” I whisper. “I have a plan.”

  She shakes her head, panic filling her eyes. “Just cut off my finger. I won’t need that one anyway.”

  I grab the hand towel and turn off the water. “Did I hurt you when you were stranded on the freeway?”

  “No, but this is different.”

  Taking her hand, I wrap the towel around it, drying it thoroughly. “Today is no different. You trusted me then when you didn’t even know me. I’m asking you, as Pops’s grumpy grandson, to trust me now.”

  She smiles at the nickname she and Pops have for me.

  “Can you do that? Will you trust me?”

  I need to be at the airport in a few hours, so the timing of what I’m about to do isn’t ideal, but it’s better than the alternative.

  “I trust you.” Her voice is soft, not as panicked as it was a second ago.

  “Good.” I nod, taking her hand in mine, allowing our rings to face out.

  Her eyes widen.

  “You promised to trust me.”

  She shakes her head, her eyes watering just a little as I pull us from the bathroom and into the living room, where Ainsley and Pops await.

  “Mac? I didn’t know you were here.”

  “Yeah,” Mac answers, fidgeting and trying to pull her hand from mine, but I don’t let her. “Cooper and I went to check out this senior center. I thought—”

  “Are those wedding rings?”

  Leave it to Ainsley to sniff out a scandal.

  McKinley goes stiff as the room falls silent.

  Guess who can’t sleep in the guest room now that everyone thinks we’re married?

  “Surprise,” I tell the two nosiest people in my family. “We would have invited everyone, but our timeline was moved up.”

  Inhaling, I cast my Pops a smile and take one for Team Lexington. Aspen can’t know I married Pops’s bestie because I needed help caring for him, and Pops can’t be disappointed that Mac is pregnant out of wedlock. I’m his grandson, he’ll always forgive me because that’s what grandparents do.

  “We’re pregnant.” I place my hand over McKinley’s stomach just as her knees buckle, but I’m fast, stepping in front of her and placing a kiss on her lips. “Keep it together,” I whisper, holding her tightly until she engages her legs.

  “You’re what?”

  So Pops sounds a little pissed. It’s fine. I’m grown and not the teenager he gave the birds and the bees speech to.

  “Pregnant,” I repeat. “McKinley and I are having a baby.”

  “But you just met!”

  I shrug, turning and flashing Ainsley a cocky look. “What can I say, I have super sperm.”

  “You’re a super liar is what you are,” Pops adds. “You told me you didn’t know who Mac was until last week when you helped her.”

  “I lied.”

  Mac squeezes my arm, and I catch the subtle shake of her head and the tears streaming down her face.

  “I asked to keep our relationship a secret. I didn’t want it to affect your friendship, so we kept it between us. I’m sorry.”

  My chest aches as my Pops narrows his eyes, his hand gripping the arm of the recliner. “You could have told me—you both could have. I’m not a fucking child!”

  “I know that, and I’m so sorry. It was a mistake, and one lie turned into five, and then it was just too late to stop.”

  “Are those zip ties?”

  I sigh and cut Ainsley a look of annoyance. “They’re symbolic. Much like the stuffed sea lions you sleep with.”

  She nods, understanding that weirdness comes in all forms. “Congratulations! Welcome to the family!” Poor McKinley isn’t ready when Ainsley rushes her, pulling her into a hug and spouting off a zillion questions as she drags her into the kitchen, more than likely about to burn them something for lunch.

  When the girls are out of range, Pops cuts me a look of disapproval. “You’re lying.”

  I flop down in the armchair next to him and grin. “Prove it.”

  McKinley

  He’s dead—or he will be in the next thirty seconds.

  Pops will be upset, but surely he will understand that his grandson asked for it in epic proportions.

  “Put the wrench down before the neighbors call the cops.”

  I hadn’t realized that when I slipped outside, I had grabbed my wrench from my purse, intent on a) seeing what in the fresh hell my new husband was doing outside, avoiding his family and leaving me to answer ten billion questions, and b) killing him so the focus would be off my pregnancy with “Cooper.”

  “I’d be doing your neighborhood a favor by ridding them of an epic liar!” I raise the wrench in the air, and Cooper merely flashes me a look of boredom.

  “I didn’t lie.” He steps on the side of the shovel. Did I mention the fucker is outside with his shirt off, digging a hole for my tree—the same tree he insisted was dead and not worth saving? Well, he is, and it’s super hard to concentrate on arguing with him when all the muscles on his torso flex with each shovel of dirt. “I told you to trust that I had a plan.”

  Instead of launching the wrench at him, like I’d prefer, I toss it to the ground. Honestly, he’s right, the neighbors will more than likely call the police, and the last thing I need is to explain why I’d like to whoop my husband’s ass before he heads to the airport. I doubt they’d find it as excusable as I do.

  “I didn’t know your plan was to tell Pops I’m pregnant!”

  He bounces on the shovel, pulling up dirt and shifting it to the side of the hole. “You were afraid that Pops would be disappointed in you.” He shrugs, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his arm, the words on his tattoo drawing my attention, yet again, to those dang muscles. “Now he isn’t. He’s disappointed in me for knocking you up. Problem solved.”

  “Problem not solved! You lied to Pops. He’s your grandfather.”

  “And you’re my wife. By our vows, my duty above anyone else is to my wife. No one will be disappointed in you, not while I’m your husband.”

  Well, damn.

  I certainly can’t kill him now, can I?

  “Coop,” I whine, sitting down in the plush grass. “You can’t say things like that. Our marriage isn’t like other marriages.”

  He flashes me this grin that is completely adorable and full of boyish charm. “Don’t I know it. If our marriage was like others, you’d be face down on the bed in Cabo right now. Your mouth would be far too preoccupied to argue with me.”

  And they say chivalry is dead… “You know what I mean. We have a deal.”

  He pauses, leaning on the top of the shovel, his brow arched. “And we have vows. At no point do I plan to break either one.”

  Talking to him is pointless and downright unhealthy for my broken heart. That steady beat in my chest does not need to fall in love with this man and his ridiculous obsession with honoring our deal and vows. My heart won’t be able to take another blow like that. I have to focus on becoming the person I need to be for the little one inside of me.

  I hang my head, knowing when to retreat. Obviously, Cooper doesn’t plan on budging, and no matter how aggravating he might be, I’m grateful. “Thank you.”

  “I’m sorry, I can’t hear you. Can you speak up?”

  I take it all back. He’s a nightmare dressed in delicious forearms and a six-pack of abs.

  Lifting my head, I glare at my husband, who is all too happy to antagonize me like I did him when we first met. “Thank you. Although I think you made a seriously stupid mistake by claiming to be this baby’s father, again, I’m eternally grateful. I’ll make it up to you. I promise I’ll tell Pops the truth soon.”

  For a moment, Cooper just stares at me, searching for something that I’m not sure he finds in my gaze. “Whatever you want,” he finally says, tipping his chin at P
salms next to me. “Want to get the hose and give it some water?”

  I try—and fail—not to grin. “I thought you said it wasn’t worth saving?”

  He walks over and squats down in front of me, wrapping his hands around Psalms’s trunk, his gaze holding mine. “I changed my mind.”

  “You changed your mind?”

  Don’t fall in love. Don’t fall in love.

  “You can too, you know?”

  “What? Change my mind?”

  He nods. “Anytime. There is no rule saying you can’t.”

  I watch him, digesting all his cryptic words while he stands, planting my tree in his back yard where, unlike me, it’ll grow roots.

  “I can’t believe you and Cooper checked out a senior center. It’s not like I’m a child in need of daycare.”

  Pops is ornery. After Ainsley bid us goodbye three days ago, claiming she couldn’t afford any more IOUs if she was late getting home, she and Cooper left for the airport, but not before Cooper shoved enough cash in my hand and told me to catch up my rent or move out, but to handle it before he got back home.

  If that wasn’t enough to push me over the edge, leaving me with nothing but time and a crotchety old bestie would have.

  “Who said you needed a daycare?”

  I take a bite of the pickle I confiscated from Cooper’s fridge. Apparently, he ordered groceries from his hotel room and had them deliver an extra six jars of pickles. Yes, six. Who was I to waste his money?

  “I was simply trying to get you laid, but if you don’t appreciate it, then we can just go back to the house.”

  So now I’m lying to Pops, but Cooper had mentioned we visited a senior center while we were out getting married a few days ago, and since Pops and I were just sitting awkwardly with each other, I figured it couldn’t hurt finding us something to do.

  “Don’t be like Cooper,” he scolds. “He’s already on my shit list for the other day. You’re teetering on the edge with this senior center garbage.”

  “It’s not garbage, and besides, how many games of Uno can we play before we fall into a coma?”

  “It looks like we’ve pulled into a graveyard,” Pops mumbles.

  “Don’t say that. You’re the same age as these people. Being around people your own age is healthy.” I motion to the group of gray-haired ladies lingering outside in rocking chairs. “Who knows, you might find someone who catches your eye.” I can feel his glare beaming into the side of my head. “Don’t tell me you’re shy.”

  “I’m not shy,” he bites out. “I’ve had girlfriends before.”

  I turn slowly, my brows raised.

  “I have. Don’t look at me like that. Just because I’m old doesn’t mean my bed hasn’t stayed warm.”

  Cooper would have gagged at his statement, but not me. Pops isn’t my grandfather; he’s my bestie. “Really? Maybe you could teach me a few things then?”

  I’m totally baiting him and totally forgetting I’m married to his grandson.

  Pops scoffs. “I’m not looking to be kicked out.”

  “Kicked out? Cooper would never kick you out.”

  Those silver brows arch while he gives me a pointed look. “And here I thought you were the smarter one.”

  I fight back a smile. “You think I’m smarter than Cooper?”

  Pops grunts and lumbers out of the car, his weight leaning on the cane. “I said thought, not think. Clearly, your actions today have changed my opinion.” Nodding to the group of elderly men and women, he makes his point.

  “I’ll have you know Cooper endorsed these outings too.”

  Pops scoffs. “That’s what I’m saying. I knew he was a moron, but I thought you had better sense than that.”

  He’s nervous, and for that fact alone, I don’t take offense to anything that comes out of his mouth. I’ve been there. When I was little, bouncing around from foster home to foster home, new school to new school, I developed a method. It was called being antisocial. I wouldn’t speak to anyone or participate in any activity because, what was the point? In six months, I would be in another school. Establishing friendships wasn’t worth my time, and therefore, wasn’t worth my effort. So I treated everyone as if they were visitors in my life.

  Eventually, that behavior changed, thanks to my foster mother and her infinite patience. So Pops can lash out all he wants, but I’ll still be here—waiting patiently for him to come around. Because that’s what friends are for.

  “Well,” I say, blowing out a breath, and tying up my hair as if I’m readying to spar. “I’m sorry you feel that way. I guess I’ll just have fun without you.”

  Ocean blue eyes, the exact color of Coop’s, roll. “I’m not a four-year-old. You can’t play those mind games with me.”

  I grin and place a kiss on his cheek. “Stay out of trouble while I get my fun on.”

  Without waiting for his response, I skip off toward the group, spotting the program director and waving him down. “Logan!”

  He turns, flashing me a smile before he pats another member on the shoulder and jogs over to meet me. “So glad you could make it.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  I feel an angry presence behind me. “Pops and I are really excited to participate.”

  Pops mumbles something that sounds like liar, but I ignore it, keeping my smile on Logan.

  “Good. Come let me show you both around before we get started.”

  “We’d love that. Thank you.”

  As Logan leads the way, I take a step back and slip my arm under Pops’s. “You better be careful,” he chides, both of us taking slow steps.

  “Be careful? Why?”

  Pops scoffs. “Cooper has never been good at sharing.”

  Pulling us to a stop, I whip my gaze at the old man babbling nonsense beside me. “Are you suggesting that Cooper would be mad that I smiled at Logan?” Cooper did say he took his vows seriously. Not that I’m flirting with Logan. He’s the program director and was nice enough to let us check out the facility on short notice.

  Pops shrugs, and it sends a shot of aggravation down my spine. “I’m not flirting. And if I were single—I’m not—I wouldn’t be interested in someone like Logan.” Because I kind of have a thing for grumpy saviors who call me every night to check on things and insist he hear the deadbolt lock while he’s on the phone.

  “I would hope not,” he says, dryly. “Logan hangs out with old people all day. That’s weird.”

  A laugh bursts out of me. “Are you calling me weird?”

  He shakes his head. “Not at all.”

  “But I hang out with you all day.”

  Like we aren’t talking about people his own age, he answers, “But I’m not old.” He pauses, scanning the clusters of groups. “And I’m cool.”

  Shaking my head, I start walking. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right. We’ll hang out just a little while, then we can head back home and do cool kid things like spy on the neighbors with your deer cam.”

  Pops grins, wholeheartedly agreeing with that plan. “Thank goodness. Now you’re acting like the woman I know.”

  We follow behind Logan, who leads us to the Hawaiian-themed garden set up where the trees have all been wound in white lights. Tables are set up around a sandpit complete with grass skirts. “You think they really buried the pig in the sand?” I ask Pops.

  He shrugs. “I have no idea. I told you old people are crazy. For all we know, there could be several sets of dentures buried in that sand. I think you guessing a pig is a little presumptuous, given our current company.”

  I bite my lip. “I thought you were going to give them a chance?”

  “I said no such thing.” He looks at the zip tie still stuck on my finger.

  “Cooper wanted us to make the rings.”

  His lips thin. “Cooper is as crafty as a ball sack.”

  He knows I’m lying.

  Folding my arms, I hold his accusing stare. “Maybe you don’t know your grandson as well as you think you d
o.”

  “And maybe you think I’m a senile bastard.”

  I grin. “Maybe not a bastard…”

  Pops barks out a laugh and thankfully leaves the conversation alone, steering us to one of the tables where we stay for the next hour, watching as the residents mingle, some even trying their walkers out with a hula routine.

  I nudge Pops in the ribs. “Want to try hula? We could hip hop it up.”

  “No.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, I’m—”

  “Good, I’d hate for you to break a hip.” A smooth voice interrupts Pops, filling me with tingles I should not have in a back yard with residents who could be my great-grandparents.

  McKinley

  I look up, and I swear the sun followed Cooper, lighting up his golden hair as if he were a real-life angel. “I thought you weren’t going to land until tonight?”

  That’s so not excitement in my voice.

  Cooper shrugs. “Rain canceled our last game.”

  And he didn’t go home to rest. He came here.

  “Thought I’d come supervise you two.”

  He looks around at the party, which is in full swing, if you can call a bunch of eighty-five-year-olds barely swaying to the music a party in full swing.

  “What, you thought they’d spike the pineapple juice?” Pops says, his eyes going to a particularly fancy lady with pearl earrings, laughing in the hula line.

  “Actually, I thought you might spike it and be banned for life.”

  Pops scoffs. “It’s what you deserve after all the times I got called to the office for your bullshit at school.”

  “Pops!” We both hiss out his name as a warning.

  “Don’t swear,” I say, looking around to see if anyone heard him.

  “Why not? What are they going to do? Wash my mouth out with soap?”

  Cooper shakes his head. “They should. You’ve been a real pain in the ass this week.”

  Pops waves us away, his eyes still tracking the lady in pearls. “Dance with Mac so I can get some damn peace.”