Fake Marriage (Contemporary Romance Box Set)

by Ajme Williams

  He grinned at me as he shared his science experiment. I could certainly see why the school district hired him and why all his students gushed about him. He had the energy and exuberance needed to teach ten and eleven-year olds. He had the energy of youth, I reminded himself, because he was young.

  And good lord was he handsome with his dark thick hair combed back, his eyes were warm despite being so dark. His body was tall, and lean, yet strong. I knew from our text conversations over the summer that he was smart, witty, and easy going. He was the total package and I longed to be twenty-something so I could flirt with him. Instead, he was relegated to a fantasy now that I was single and my only source of any sexual gratification. The image of him always worked to get me off along with my little rabbit, but then I felt guilty because I was thirteen years older than him and really shouldn’t be thinking of him like that. Added to that, we were colleagues.

  “Everything went okay, until Jimmy drew a huge dick on the plate—”

  “Oh God he didn’t?” Karen said, laughing.

  Becky rolled her eyes. “I’m not surprised. You’d be amazed at all the phallic things he does in art.”

  “It started floating around. And the thing is, more than float the lines can move, so the dick started to bend. It made me wince.”

  I sucked in my lips to keep from smiling too much. I was amused, but I didn’t want him to think our flirting meant more. I didn’t want to give him a reason to have to tell me I’m too old for him.

  “At least it didn’t grow,” Karen quipped.

  “I did a quick castration and then encouraged him to do something else,” Tucker said. “That was painful too.”

  “Did he do breasts next?” Becky asked.

  “No. He drew a dog. He’s actually a pretty good artist,” Tucker said, crumpling up his napkin.

  Becky nodded. “He really is, but I worry he’ll grow up to do graphic novel porn or something.”

  Karen waved a hand. “He’s eleven. His preoccupation with T and A is normal.”

  I nodded in agreement.

  “Have you had something like that?” Tucker asked. His body was turned to me, and if I was ten years younger, I might have taken his attention as interest.

  “She had a kid bring his mother’s dildo once,” Becky blurted, then laughed.

  Tucker’s dark brows arched up and his eyes glittered with amusement. “No shit.”

  “It was during the sexual reproduction unit, which at that time was divided so that all the girls were over in Ms. Langshire’s room. You replaced her. I had the boys. They each learn both genders, but we figured to avoid embarrassment and lewdness, we’d teach each gender separately.”

  “Was it battery operated?” Karen asked.

  Becky burst out laughing again.

  “Dildos don’t have batteries,” Tucker said, with authority.

  “How would you know?” I asked, forgetting that I shouldn’t be talking sex with a much younger teacher I fantasized about. Especially in school.

  “I have a lot of friends who are girls,” he said. “Without benefits, hence their need for a dildo. Though most of them prefer a vibrator.”

  We all gaped at him, and yet, I realized that maybe I’d been wrong about the flirting. If he was a man with lots of female friends, flirting probably didn’t mean anything to him.

  “You’re the mayor’s wife’s friend, right?” Becky asked.

  He nodded. “Yeah, Brooke and I were friends in college and stayed friends. She’s the one that told me about this job.” He turned to look at me. “I’m glad she did. I’m really liking it here.”

  Again, if I were younger and didn’t think he was just good with women, I might have read something into his saying that while looking at me.

  “Oh crap, I’ve got to get to class,” Becky said with a glance at her watch.

  “Me too,” Karen rose and the two of them tossed their lunch trash and were gone before I could realize that I was now alone with Tucker.

  “I should get back,” I said, standing and balling up my lunch trash.

  He stood with me. “Will you have dinner with me?”

  I stilled and slowly looked at him. “What?” He couldn’t really be asking me on a date, could he?

  “Your help over the summer to prepare me to teach here was invaluable. I’d love to be able to get more tips about settling in here. The school and town.”

  I did a mental facepalm. Of course, he wasn’t asking me on a date. He just wanted a tour guide. Normally, I’d agree. Salvation had a lot to offer and even many locals didn’t really know about all that the town offered. But since my feelings were all jumbled around him, I knew I needed to stay away.

  “I’m sorry. I have a meeting with a possible donor for the library fundraiser.” That wasn’t a lie, although I hoped I’d be done with my appointment before dinner.

  His expression showed disappointment, and I felt bad. “I know Brooke can help you get around town.”

  He nodded. “Thanks anyway.”

  I blew out a breath as he headed to his class and I went to mine, trying to put the perfection of Tucker Marshall out of my head.

  After school, I drove out to Meredith Reynold’s home. Many families in Salvation had roots here back many generations. The Reynolds’ were no different. But where many families, such as the Jones, the Valentines, and Campbells, started here in the 1800s as farmers, the Reynolds made their fortune in industry and real estate. Today, the Reynold’s family, which in Salvation, was just Meredith, lived off Jamison Reynold’s, her deceased husband’s investments.

  The house could better be described as a mansion, I thought that if any place in Salvation had ghosts, this place was it. As the housekeeper let me in, it appeared the house was still decorated as it was when old man Silas Reynolds had built it nearly two hundred years ago. I half expected oil lamps.

  “If you could wait here, Mrs. Reynolds will be right with you,” the housekeeper, Mary Lively, whose daughter I’d gone to school with, said.

  “Thank you.” The room was bright and clean, but made me think of a museum.

  “Ms. St. James, how are you?”

  I turned to see Meredith enter the room. She had to be in her eighties, but appeared quite spry. Watching her move through the parlor, she was the definition of regal. The queen of her realm. She had a reputation for being brusk and intimidating, which I’d seen first-hand often while growing up in Salvation. But she was also a supporter of the arts and other programs, and I was sure she’d donate to the library project.

  “Please sit,” she motioned to a settee that I hoped wouldn’t break when I sat on it.

  “Thank you so much for seeing me,” I said as I tentatively sat on the edge.

  “Of course. I always have time for the teachers of Salvation. How are the children this year?” She sat in a Victorian looking chair across from me.

  I smiled, ready to make small talk. “They’re great. I’m teaching fifth grade this year. Last year I taught fourth.”

  “Do you have your same class?”

  “I have a few of the same students.”

  “How wonderful for them.”

  Mrs. Lively entered carrying a tray of tea. I felt like I was in an episode of Downton Abbey. “Shall I serve you, ma’am?”

  “Yes, please, Mary. I believe Mary’s daughter is about your age, isn’t she?” Meredith asked as Mary poured the tea, handing a floral cup with saucer to her.

  “Yes,” I said, taking the second teacup in the saucer from Mary. “Laura and I were in the same grade.”

  “She was such a sweet girl. Now she’s married. How many grandchildren do you have, Mary?” Meredith asked as Mary set a plate of cookies on the coffee table between us.

  “Four from Laura,” Mary said. “Will that be all, ma’am?”

  “Yes, thank you, Mary. When will you be starting a family?” Meredith asked me as she picked up a cookie.

  “Me?” I wasn’t even married.

  “You can�
�t wait too long. The biological clock is a real thing. Of course, Jamison and I were never blessed with children.” She had a wistful smile. “He was always young at heart, so I didn’t notice how big and empty this house could be until he died. Now it’s just me.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She waved my words away. “Life goes on, doesn’t it? Doesn’t your husband want children?”

  I frowned.

  “I’d heard you were married in June. Marriage is so important to the stability of society, don’t you think? And children are a cornerstone of that. It shows our strength and virility. Plus, they make for a happier marriage, I’m told. You shouldn’t wait.”

  “I’m sure you’re right,” I said, not correcting her assumption that I was married.

  “So many women are waiting to marry or aren’t marrying at all,” Meredith had an expression of distaste. “It will be the end of society. What man wants a woman who is too independent or on the downward bloom of life.”

  I swallowed the offense I felt at her comment, and decided to bring her back to the reason for my visit. “We have so many children and families in Salvation, but our school library is woefully out of date. Reading is fundamental to life success, and we’re failing our children and their parents by not having adequate resources in that area.”

  “Too right,” she said with a nod. “I’ve been going over your information and I’ll have a decision soon.”

  Crap. I was hoping to walk out with a check.

  “What is your husband’s favorite dinner of yours?”

  “Ah…beef.” We lived in Nebraska, one of the top beef producers in the United States. It seemed like a prideful woman like her would think families in Salvation should eat beef.

  “Yes. Meat and potatoes. Men love that. I know Jamison didn’t think a meal was a meal without meat and potatoes. I tell you what. I’ll come to dinner at your place next week with my answer.”

  Did she just invite herself to my house for dinner?

  “You can learn a lot about people by being in their home, with their families. I like to get a sense of people before I hand over money. I’m sure you’d agree that character and values are important in these decisions.”

  “Yes, of course. But, ah…my husband is very busy…I’m not sure of a good time.”

  “Surely he can find time for me.” She stood, a clear indication that my time was up.

  I set my cup down and rose from the settee.

  “I look forward to dinner next week,” she said.

  As I drove home, and my brain finally cleared, I realized that not only did I need to fix up my house, which was probably impossible, but also, I had to find a fake husband. I had to do both before next week.

  3

  Tucker

  Life was nearly perfect. My class size was manageable. The resources I had to teach were acceptable. Certainly more than I’d had in Chicago. The school and town were welcoming to me. The only downside was Holly St. James.

  As the week progressed, she didn’t seem to be hiding in her classroom anymore, but neither was she as open to me as she’d been when we texted. It was making me crazy. Every time I saw her, I had an urge to wrap her up and kiss her, which was the same urge I had when she texted me that coy photo of her.

  She was always polite, but held her distance. Sure, she was older than I’d initially thought, but so what? The mayor was nearly twenty years older than Brooke, and look at them. There was no doubt they were perfect for each other, now that he got out of his head that the age difference was a problem.

  Did Holly think our age difference was a problem? I hadn’t considered that. What I needed to do was to show her that I was into her, regardless of our ages.

  It was Friday afternoon, and school had just let out. I’d stopped by the office to make a quick call to a parent to let her know about something awesome her kid had done to help another student in class. I didn’t have a problem calling parents to report problems, but if I was going to that, I felt compelled to call over good news too.

  As I headed back to class, I saw Holly in her classroom. She was at her desk looking over papers, with her pen in her teeth.

  “You don’t worry that the ink will come out and you’ll have red teeth?” I asked, taking a chance and entering her classroom.

  She smiled, but it never seemed to quite reach her eyes with me. Not like it had in that photo.

  “I hadn’t thought of it,” she said, setting the pen down.

  “You do know it’s Friday, right? School’s out. You can quit until Monday.”

  She arched a brow. “Are you saying you never grade papers over the weekend.”

  “I try not to. I don’t assign home over the weekend either. When the kids are home, they should be with their parents, not doing school work.”

  “You’re quite enlightened.”

  “I have a shrink for a mother. She taught me all I needed to know to understand kids and family. Or I should say, she raised me to understand kids and family.” I sat on the desk in front of hers.

  “She seems to have done a good job.”

  “She thinks so. Well, except that I’ve moved to Nebraska. She’s not thrilled with that. But that’s the mother part of her. The shrink part would say she had to let me live my life. What are you doing this weekend?”

  She jerked slightly at my abrupt change of subject. But I figured if I didn’t give her too much time to think, I could get her to go to dinner with me.

  “Nothing.” She stacked her papers and set them aside.

  “I want to hear all about doing nothing. How about over dinner?”

  She shook her head, but I saw the slight upward twitch of her lips. “I appreciate the offer, but coworkers shouldn’t see each other outside of work.”

  I shrugged. “It can’t be inappropriate for me to ask advice from a more experienced colleague.”

  Her small smile faltered and I panicked a little. Did I offend her by calling her experienced?

  “If you’re worried about being seen, I can cook dinner for you. I’m good at it,” I said.

  “Is there anything you aren’t good at?” Her blue eyes looked a bit annoyed.

  “I don’t seem to be very good at asking you out.”

  She stood, and grabbed her bag. “I’ll see you Monday.”

  I sighed. Another battle lost. But I was still in the war to win her over. I watched as she left her class. I followed her out, heading in the opposite direction to my classroom. As I packed my bag, I heard my phone notify me of a text. For a moment, I had the hope that it was Holly, and she changed her mind.

  Nope. It was from Brooke.

  Deputy Mayor Jones is having a kickoff party at the Salvation Station tonight. Be there or be square. 7 pm.

  I had nothing else to do, since I’d once again been shot down by Holly.

  I could never be square, but I’ll still be there.

  At seven, I walked into Salvation Station scanning the joint for Brooke.

  “They’re over there,” Ryder said from the bar pointing to a place in the corner.

  “Thanks.” I gave him a quick wave. The thing about small towns wasn’t just that everyone knew everyone else, but they were all connected in some way. Ryder was the deputy mayor’s twin brother, and husband to Trina, who was Sinclair’s good friend and worked with her in the same office as Brooke, who was married to the mayor. Sometimes I felt like I needed to create a chart to keep everyone straight.

  “Hey you,” Brooke said, standing from her chair to give me a hug. She looked infinitely happier than she had when I arrived at the end of summer.

  “Join us,” her husband, Mayor Mo, as I called him now, said, pulling out a chair. Initially, he didn’t like me, but once I put him straight that Brooke and I were never, and would never be a thing, he seemed okay with me.

  “You remember Sinclair and her husband, Wyatt,” Brooke said.

  I reached over the table to shake their hands. “Yes, good to see you.”

&nb
sp; “And Trina,” Brooke said.

  “Yes. I remember you from the Harvest Festival. I hear you got your man,” I said with a nod to Ryder.

  She smiled. “Despite myself, I did.”

  I sat down.

  “What’s your poison?” Ryder came over to the table.

  I looked around and saw a variety of drinks.

  “He’ll have a Yuengling,” Brooke called out.

  I nodded that beer would be fine.

  “So how was school?” Brooke asked.

  “Good. I’ve got a good class.”

  “You’d have hated me and Ryder in fifth grade,” Wyatt said. “We caused all sorts of trouble.”

  “Nah, you’d have loved me and that would have made you behave.”

  Wyatt laughed.

  “Thank God Alyssa doesn’t take after you in that respect,” Sinclair said to him. “She’s in fifth grade, in Ms. St. James’ class. I’m sure you know her…Holly, not Alyssa.”

  “I do know her.”

  Brooke bumped me from the side and gave me a knowing look. I suspected she’d started drinking well before I got there. She wasn’t drunk, but she appeared loose enough that I could see her making some sort of comment about my being hot for teacher.

  Ryder brought my beer to me. “As a teacher, can you keep this group from getting too raucous?”

  “No,” I said, taking the beer. “But I do know some awesome science experience with alcohol that might distract them.”

  The group laughed.

  The attention turned to razzing Sinclair about being mayor and obscure laws that needed to be changed.

  “Like that one that says a parent can be arrested if their child burps in church,” Ryder said. “I shouldn’t have to go to jail just because my kid has got gas.”

  “It’s burping, not farting,” Trina said. “Are you worried our child is going to be gassy?” She rubbed the tiny baby bump on her belly.

  “That’s a state law,” Sinclair said. “Hopefully, your child won’t be like you and you’ll be able to avoid jail time.”

  Ryder laughed, but then something near the door distracted him. “Gotta go to work.”