The Marriage Bargain

by Stephanie Dees

  “Well?”

  Jules cleared her throat. “Garrett said—”

  Alarm flashed across Garrett’s face as his feet hit the floor. “Oh, no, don’t even try that. Garrett said make friends with the uncle. Garrett said try to get the uncle on your side. Garrett did not tell you to pledge your undying love and the next fifty years of your life to the uncle.”

  Jules took a deep breath. “You’re right—you’re right. He didn’t. But I did. Marry him, I mean. So you’re both going to have to deal with it.”

  Wynn rubbed a hand across her eyes. “I can’t believe you did this. You—the person who has to consult her calendar before she decides to brush her teeth in the morning—just up and got married. What were you thinking?”

  Jules shook her head. It wasn’t like it was a complicated decision. Could it really be that hard for Wynn to understand? “It’s actually very simple. I may not have birthed Eleanor and Emma, but they’re mine to protect. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for them. Does that clear things up for you?”

  Wynn rocked back on her heels. She glanced at the portable crib where her baby girl lay sleeping, and shook her head with a small shrug. “Okay. I get it—I do. I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

  Jules met her sister’s eyes, so much like hers that they could be identical. The truth slipped out before she could stop it. “I hope so, too.”

  “Do you really think the judge will buy it?” Wynn turned to Garrett. “Do you?”

  He leaned forward, his earnest face and unruly brown hair a counterpoint to Wynn’s polished beauty. “I don’t know, but if it’s going to have a chance, you’re going to have to act like it’s a genuine relationship.”

  “Agreed.” Wynn nodded and turned back to Jules. “Family lunch on Sunday. We’ll have a cake and take pictures, like a reception. You better make it look real.”

  “I will. We will.” Jules looked at the two of them. “Can I go now? Apparently I have to plan a wedding cake for Sunday.”

  Wynn gripped her by the shoulders, tears suddenly springing into her eyes as she peered into Jules’s. “I need to know you’re okay. You’re my sister and I love you.”

  “I know. I love you, too.”

  She wasn’t okay. She was really far from okay. She felt like she was chasing after her life as it spun away from her, like some kind of rogue tornado.

  As the door swung closed behind her and she took a bracing breath of the cold air, her sister’s words rang in her ear. You better make it look real.

  Her marriage to Cam might be a marriage in name only, but it felt like the realest thing that ever happened to her.

  * * *

  Sunday afternoon at Red Hill Farm was no joke. Cam glanced around at the crowd of people milling about. It seemed like Jules’s family had multiplied into a small horde. A horde with many, many children—some biological, some adopted, some foster.

  “We’d better make this quick. The kids are getting restless.” Juliet’s eyes were clear and bright as she smiled up at him. She sliced into the cake she’d made at his house the night before—a two-tiered beauty with purple and yellow pansies topping the creamy layers of frosting. She looked happy, doing a good job pretending they were typical newlyweds, but already he knew her well enough to see the strain just around her eyes.

  The pretense was taking a toll.

  Meanwhile, he was aware of her every movement, as her sleeve brushed his arm, her hair sliding forward to hide her face. She broke off a bite of cake and offered it to him on her fingers, the ring he’d placed on her hand glimmering in the afternoon sun.

  Even now the memory of sliding that ring on her finger seemed like something that happened in a dream, not real life, but here they were, having wedding cake with all her family, and then some, looking on. He swallowed the delicate bite and drew in a breath. If she could get through this, he could. He picked up a small piece of cake.

  One of the older kids shouted, “Smash it in her face!”

  Cam laughed. “I would, but I’m scared of her big brothers.”

  “As you should be.” Joe crossed his arms and stared pointedly at Cam, a move that brought a cackle from the gallery of kids watching them, who apparently already suspected Joe was a softy under the big tough police chief exterior.

  Cam held the cake out, meeting Juliet’s eyes, raising an eyebrow in silent acknowledgment that this moment between them was so incredibly awkward. As gently as possible, he popped the piece of cake into her mouth, laughing as she tried to be graceful and ended up with frosting on her cheek.

  “The bride and groom feeding each other symbolizes their commitment to care for one another in marriage.” She looked up, blushed again. “I know all kinds of random facts. Hazards of making wedding cakes for a living.”

  “I didn’t know that.” He held her gaze as she rubbed a smudge of frosting from his bottom lip, a gesture that seemed intimate—more intimate even than the kiss they’d shared at the small ceremony.

  “But we will. Take care of each other.” He cleared his throat and looked around. “This cake is incredible. Do we have to share it?”

  “Yes,” Juliet’s sister-in-law Jordan interjected. “Don’t even joke about not sharing cake.”

  Jules gave him a little shove. “No worries, Jordan. I know where to get more if we run out.”

  Jordan, sporting a growing baby bump and carrying a camera, grinned. “Glad that’s settled. Cam, give her a kiss for the camera and you can be done and I can have a piece—I mean, the kids can have a piece.”

  Just a kiss and you can be done. As if it were really that easy. Cam smiled at Jules and slid his hand across the small of her back to draw her closer to him. She looked beautiful in a simple lace shirt and jeans, her hair loose around her shoulders. He grazed his fingertips down her cheek to her jawline, tipped her face toward him and leaned forward, his eyes lingering on hers.

  She might be the toughest woman he’d ever met. She rarely showed vulnerability. Almost never showed fear. But in her eyes today, he saw a fragile hope, and that tiny hint of exposure sliced him to the core.

  He brushed his lips across hers, and when someone—most likely one of the teenagers—shouted, “Oh, come on. That’s not a real kiss,” he swung her into a low dip and kissed her thoroughly, to the delight of the crowd of family surrounding them.

  He’d expected the shock of awareness. What he hadn’t bargained on was the jolt of recognition. The soul-deep knowledge that this woman was his wife.

  Except that she wasn’t. Not really.

  He lifted her, laughing, to her feet.

  Her face flushing pink, she picked up her plastic champagne-style glass of sparkling cider from the table and lifted it to the crowd of family as she fanned herself with the other hand. “To marriage.”

  “Hear, hear!” Her brother Ash raised his glass and winked at his wife, Jordan.

  “Heads up!” A skinny teenage boy rammed his way through the crowd of people around the table as a football hurtled toward the cake table.

  Cam stuck out a hand and snagged the ball out of the air, saving the cake from disaster.

  “Hey, cool, thanks. Great catch.” The teenager stuck out his hand. “I’m Deke. Wanna play?”

  Cam shrugged. “I’m the groom, man. Not sure if football is in the cards for me today.”

  Jules laughed. “Go play. I’m going to cut some cake for the kids. And Jordan.”

  “Thanks!” He kissed her on the cheek, an unconscious gesture that nonetheless had him faltering for a second before Deke pulled on his arm.

  “Come on, Cam. If I stand still too long, Ms. Claire comes up with some kind of chore for me to do.”

  Cam chuckled and pumped his arm in the air a couple of times. “All right. Go long.”

  The kid whooped and started running. Cam cocked his arm back and threw a perfect pass.
It hung in the air for what seemed like forever before it dropped right into his new buddy’s hands.

  He glanced back at Juliet’s family—eating cake, chatting with each other, some still dressed in church clothes, most with children in their arms or playing nearby. He’d been on the outside of scenes like this one his whole life—wanting to belong, but never really fitting in. Truth was he had more in common with the foster kids who lived here than he did with Juliet’s family.

  Deke threw the ball back, smacking Cam square in the chest. His arms closed around it automatically. He smiled. “You’ve got a good arm, Deke. You just need to work on your consistency a little bit. You planning to try out for varsity next year?”

  The kid shrugged. “I was thinking about it. Never been anywhere long enough to play on a team.”

  “I could help you some, if you want. It’s been a long time since I played, but I still remember a few things.”

  Deke shrugged again, a nonchalant lift of one shoulder. “Sure, I mean, if I have time.”

  The boy probably hadn’t had many people in his life he could count on to keep their promises. That was different now. “I’ll stop by one afternoon this week and—if you have time—we’ll throw a little.”

  Jules caught his eye across the yard. She had Emma in her arms and a smile on her face. She’d surprised him today, although he should expect that by now. He hadn’t expected that kiss. It had been a shocking reminder that this wasn’t a game they were playing. For better or worse, they were in this together, and there was a fragile, tenuous bond growing between them.

  He didn’t know whether to be grateful or scared out of his mind.

  * * *

  Jules looked up from wiping frosting off Emma’s chin and caught Cam’s eye. He smiled at her and, even across the yard, she could feel the connection between them. It was so odd that just a month ago she’d been independent. Single. Living her life, not even aware that huge change was coming.

  What-ifs weren’t helpful. Practical, pragmatic people didn’t look back and wish they’d taken the time for that one long soak in the tub with a paperback romance.

  But oh, she wished she had.

  A bloodcurdling screech sounded across the yard, from near the playground area. From the looks of it, eight-year-old Ty had gotten in trouble and objected to Joe sitting him in time-out for a few minutes. He’d flung himself at Joe, fists flying. Joe held the little boy at arm’s length while he flailed and hurled nasty words at his foster father.

  Eleanor, who’d been happily playing in the playhouse with Jordan and Ash’s little boy, began to cry, which then set Levi off, and before Jules could blink, half the kids were crying.

  Cam was closer to the playhouse than she was, and seconds later, he scooped Eleanor into his arms and dipped his head toward hers to say something into her ear.

  Joe’s wife, Claire, along with a couple of the older girls, started rounding up the other kids. “Come on, guys. Family lunch is over. Time for chores, baths, homework. You know who you are and what you should be doing.”

  There were a few assorted grumbles and groans, but the tension that had seemed palpable when Ty started screaming seemed eased by Claire taking charge.

  “You ready to head home? I think Eleanor’s about had it.” Cam appeared at Jules’s side with Eleanor clinging to his neck.

  “Emma, too. I need to stay and clean up, though. Claire and Joe have their hands full.”

  Bertie looked up from the lawn chair where she was holding Joe and Claire’s sleeping toddler. “No way. You guys are the guests of honor today. I’ll take care of the cleanup.”

  “If you’re sure—”

  “I’m sure. Go. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

  As they spoke, Ty’s curses and screams settled into sobs and Joe drew the angry little boy in, lifting him into his arms. He eased into one of the many swings scattered around the property, with Ty in his lap.

  “Is he going to be okay?” Jules knew many of the kids who lived here with Joe and Claire had been through some pretty awful things. She’d seen meltdowns before, but nothing quite as dramatic as the one Ty had just experienced.

  “I think so,” Bertie replied. “It’ll take time but Joe’s got him now.”

  The big, strong arms of Juliet’s brother—who was himself a neglected kid and then adopted into their family—were the perfect place for Ty to heal.

  “Come on, Jules, let’s get these guys home,” Cam said. Eleanor’s head was nestled into his shoulder, her eyes dipping closed.

  As Jules followed him to the car, she realized that just like Joe and Claire had responded as a family unit to the crisis unfolding with one of their kids, she and Cam were doing the same. They were leaving as a family, handling what they needed to handle as a unit. Maybe it wasn’t a typical family and maybe underneath the surface they were anything but.

  No...she wasn’t going to think that way.

  They had a ways to go to figure everything out, but, for the girls’ sake, they were a family. She glanced at Cam, his face tender as he strapped Eleanor into her car seat, his strength reflected in the ripple of his biceps.

  That kiss today had buckled her knees.

  She almost wished he’d really meant it.

  Chapter Six

  Jules checked on Eleanor one more time, barely resisting the desire to tumble into the bed next to her and sink into oblivion until the next day. But that wouldn’t solve her problem—namely one marriage of convenience to Cameron Quinn—only postpone it.

  She padded into the living room on bare feet and stopped short. Cam was sound asleep on the couch. She glanced behind her as if someone might be standing there judging her, then took a single step forward where she could study his face. This time of day he had a shadow of a beard, but it made him only more handsome. She wanted to run her fingers down the angles and planes of his face, to trace the strong jawline.

  Blowing out a breath, she gave herself a mental slap. That kiss today must’ve addled her brain. They were partners. Co-parents.

  Maybe they were married, but they were not a couple.

  She squeezed her eyes shut. Come on, Jules. Get it together. When she opened them again, she noticed a bakery box in the middle of the coffee table with a place setting on either side of it.

  He really was thoughtful. The party today had been in their honor, but somehow they’d been too busy to eat. Now she was starving. She cleared her throat loudly and pretended not to see Cam jerk awake.

  Cam sat up and pressed his fingers into his eyes. “Your, uh, mom dropped by with some leftovers when you were getting Eleanor ready for bed. Wow, I was out. Sorry.”

  “No worries. Today was exhausting. This whole week has been way over-the-top.” She sat on the edge of the sofa and opened the box. “Hey, she brought a little bit of everything.”

  “There’s cake in the fridge, too.”

  Jules piled her plate with berries, cheese cubes and tiny chicken salad sandwiches, and took a huge bite of one sandwich.

  Cam picked up another sandwich from the box, skipping the plate. “I was hoping we could talk about how we’re going to manage the girls this week.”

  Jules spoke over a mouthful of chicken salad. “If I go in before daylight, I can leave the shop around three and pick up the girls. But that doesn’t solve how they get ready in the morning and get to day care.”

  He lifted a shoulder. “I can get them ready in the morning and take them. I think if you’re picking them up and handling the afternoon, I can get my writing done during the day.”

  She frowned. “I don’t want to not be here every morning when they wake up. Maybe I can rearrange my schedule to be home sometimes and we can switch off.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  She swung around to look at him. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, the girl
s need stability. They need to know what’s going to happen every day and when it’s going to happen. Otherwise they’ll worry.”

  “I thought you were the winging-it type, traveling around the world on a whim, never the same place two weeks in a row.”

  Cam shifted back, away from her. “That’s not exactly a fair characterization. I work with a plan, especially when things are important. And this is really important.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t see what the big deal is if the schedule is changing, as long as someone’s always there for the girls.”

  “Why do you think that kid had a raging fit today?”

  Getting accustomed to his tendency to make abrupt changes in topic, she gave him a look. “I don’t know... He didn’t get his way and didn’t like being punished?”

  “Maybe a little of that, but at the heart of it is a hurting kid. He can’t manage his feelings because of all the external stuff that’s out of his control.” Cam tossed the remainder of his sandwich onto his plate and brushed his hands together. “I’m not gonna have a meltdown when I don’t get my way, but the truth is, I know what it’s like not to have anyone you can trust.”

  His words stung. She’d done everything in her ability to make sure Eleanor and Emma knew they were safe and loved. “Are you saying that Eleanor and Emma feel like that?”

  He reached for her hand, but she jerked it away and stood up. “Maybe we need to wait and have this discussion when we’re not both tired. Give me your plate and I’ll take it to the kitchen.”

  She grabbed his plate and walked away, hurt and anger burning in the back of her throat.

  * * *

  Cam took a deep breath. How did he explain this to her without her feeling like he was accusing her of something? Because he wasn’t. He just knew what it was like to have a childhood where everything was on shaky ground.