Brenda Harlen - A Wife for One Year

“Research for a history paper.”

“Don’t you do your research on the internet?”

“Miss Roberts wants us to cite at least three hard-copy sources.”

“What’s your topic?”

“Revolution and Nationalism.”

“That’s a pretty broad subject.”

“I’m supposed to pick one specific country as my focus,” Becca admitted. “But I want to see how much material is available before I decide.”

“When’s the paper due?”

“Wednesday.”

Kenna didn’t even bother to sigh.

There was nothing she could say that she hadn’t already said numerous times before, to no avail. Her sister was a smart kid who got decent grades without even trying, which frustrated Kenna because she had no doubt that Becca would be a straight-A student if she applied herself. Of course, every time she tried to talk to her about college, her sister brushed her off with a dismissive, “I’m not thinking about college yet.”

Kenna knew that if she didn’t start thinking about it, and seriously, it wouldn’t ever happen. But that was a topic—and a battle—for another day. All she said now was, “You might want to ask Mom to take you to the library in the morning so that you can get started on the paper, because I won’t be back until later in the afternoon.”

“Where are you?”

“Out of town.”

“That’s an uncharacteristically vague answer,” Becca noted.

“I’ll fill you in on the details later.” When she’d figured out how—and how much—to tell her sister.

“Oh.” Her sister sounded intrigued. “Did you run away for the weekend to have wild monkey sex with a stranger?”

She decided that outrageous question didn’t even warrant a response. “Can you ask Mom to take you to the library?” she prompted instead.

“Not likely.”

“Why not?”

“Sue Ellen’s got a new boyfriend,” Becca told her. “She hasn’t been home in three days.”

Kenna forced herself to blow out a deep, calming breath. “And you’re only telling me this now?”

“It’s no big deal.”

“It is a big deal,” she insisted. “You’re only fourteen—”

“Almost fifteen,” her sister interjected.

Which was still too young to be on her own for three days. And three nights.

“You know you can always come and live with me.” She made the offer automatically, as she’d done several times before. Only when the words were out of her mouth did she realize that living with her now meant living with her and Daniel—and his condo didn’t have enough bedrooms to make that work.

“I don’t need a babysitter—just a ride to the library.”

The dismissive response both relieved and frustrated Kenna. “I’ll let you know when I’m on my way, but it probably won’t be until about three o’clock.”

“That’s fine.”

“You could get started on your internet research before then,” she suggested.

“Sure,” Becca agreed, without much enthusiasm.

Kenna said goodbye to her sister and disconnected the call.

She hadn’t asked about the origin of Becca’s bad mood. That the teen had asked her sister instead of her boyfriend for a ride to the library was enough of an indication that the on-again, off-again relationship with Todd Denney was currently off. And Kenna wasn’t disappointed about that at all.

As she filled the oversize tub with bubbles, she acknowledged that she was hardly in a position to pass judgment on her sister’s relationship. When she was Becca’s age, she’d been completely and exclusively focused on her studies. That’s not to say she never felt stirrings of attraction, but whenever she did, she forced herself to ignore them. She was terrified that if she gave in to those feelings she’d end up like her mother and her older sister, both of whom had got pregnant before they’d graduated high school.

Sure she’d harbored the occasional crush—even, briefly, on the man who was now her husband—but she’d never experienced the extreme highs and lows of teenage love and had no idea how to relate to her sister’s angst. But not understanding didn’t stop her from worrying. Todd was older and more experienced, and Becca was so infatuated that Kenna worried her sister would do anything to hold on to him.

As she lowered herself into the steamy water, she couldn’t help but wonder if she wasn’t guilty of the same thing—if her decision to marry Daniel wasn’t just her way of holding on to him, at least for the next year. At the end of that time, they would end their marriage and go back to being just friends.

The concern for Kenna was what might happen between now and then—how living under the same roof and pretending to be a couple would change their relationship. Because it was inevitable that it would. They’d shared only one chaste kiss at the end of the ceremony, and already she was feeling things she didn’t want to feel.

It wasn’t the first time she’d experienced a tug of attraction in proximity to her best friend, but she was confident in her ability to ignore the unwelcome stirring of her body. It was the unexpected yearning of her heart that caused her more worry. When she was with Daniel, she felt the lure of something deeper, the longing for something more. But she’d never let herself even acknowledge those feelings because she knew they couldn’t lead anywhere. Not even if he was now her husband.

As she stepped out of the bath and reached for a towel, she considered the possibility that she’d only imagined that tingle. That she might be romanticizing her relationship with Daniel because he was now her husband. Maybe the truth was that she hadn’t felt anything at all but had manufactured a response because she wanted to feel something. Because she didn’t want a fake marriage—she wanted a real wedding, a real husband and a real wedding night.

Tears stung her eyes as she rubbed the thick, fluffy towel over her body and wondered if she would ever enjoy the touch of a man’s hands on her. But even more than the physical aspects of an intimate relationship, she longed to fall in love and be loved in return.

Since she was a little girl, she’d dreamed about the kind of family she’d never had. A man and a woman, married to one another, living together, sharing the joys and responsibilities of their children. She’d had other dreams, of course. To go to college, which she’d done, and to become a teacher, which she’d also done.

But after half a dozen failed relationships, she’d finally accepted that the falling-in-love-and-having-a-family thing wasn’t going to happen for her. So when Daniel suggested this marriage of convenience, she’d jumped at the opportunity, grateful at least for the illusion that she was in a normal relationship and could have a normal life.

But the fact that she was alone in a hotel room on her wedding night proved that it was nothing more than an illusion.

Chapter Three

Daniel’s inaugural visit to Sin City had been with both of his brothers in celebration of his twenty-first birthday. Since then, he’d visited Las Vegas on several other occasions, usually with a group of buddies. He’d never brought a woman with him to Vegas, and he’d never imagined returning home with one as his wife.

But it was official now—he was married. And the band on his finger had been placed there by the woman who had been his best friend for the past ten years.

He shook his head. Even though it had been his idea, it was still hard to believe that Kenna was his wife.

He sat down at the blackjack table with a stack of chips, because he had nothing better to do. And how pathetic was that? It was his wedding night, his bride was in their room alone and he was playing cards.

Pathetic perhaps, but necessary. Because if he’d stayed upstairs with Kenna, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep his hands off her. And he had no intention of crossing lines that had been firmly established more than ten years earlier just because one kiss had somehow stirred up wants and needs that he’d learned to ignore long ago.