Linda Varner - Make-Believe Husband

“I do,” Jessi said, her gaze locked with that of her blue-eyed, brown-haired groom, a disconcertingly handsome male she’d met for the first time mere hours ago. Dressed in his suede jacket, denim jeans, and boots, he looked like one gorgeous hunk of mountain man. Jessi tried to picture herself cooking up some vittles for him over an open flame.

She couldn’t. Was that an omen?

“And do you, Gabriel, take Jessica to be your wife?”

“I do.”

His gaze swept Jessi from top to bottom and back up again, not missing a curve. Flustered by the appraisal, Jessi glanced away and instantly spied, of all things, the door.

Could she still escape?

Should she?

Unsure, she looked back at Dillard, who now stared at the octogenarian preacher who’d so graciously agreed to perform their Saturday-night wedding.

Desperate to affirm that she wasn’t making the biggest mistake in her thirty—almost thirty-one—years, Jessi stole the moment to study Dillard’s profile. Surely there were hints of character there, she thought, at once noting the telltale dimple in his cheek. Companion to the wicked twinkle in his eye, it promised a crooked sense of humor even as the set of his nose and chin promised bullheaded stubbornness.

“Are there rings?”

“Oh, um, yes,” Jessi replied, tugging from her thumb the ring she’d purchased for Dillard that afternoon. She wondered if her rugged groom had remembered to buy one, a worry proved needless when he immediately dug into an inside pocket of his jacket. Jessica guessed he’d bought a plain gold band like the one she’d purchased for him. Not knowing his personal tastes really had narrowed her choices.

“Exchange the rings, please.”

With hands that trembled as badly as the old reverend’s, Jessi slipped the circle of gold onto Dillard’s third finger, left hand. He then did the same to her, his large hands steady, his touch electric. Jessi didn’t give the marriage token so much as a glance, so rattled was she by that brief but disconcerting contact.

His good looks and blatant masculinity could prove damned distracting during their marriage of convenience, she realized with some dismay—just one of many reasons to get the hell out of Sacramento before it was too late.

Or was he really the problem? she then asked herself. In truth, weren’t three years’ worth of celibacy more to blame for tonight’s sweaty palms and hammering heart?

But of course, she reassured herself. These lonely days, even Frankenstein had sex appeal....

At that moment, the preacher murmured approval of their cooperation thus far, a sound that barely penetrated Jessi’s daze of indecision. “Now face one another and, in unison, repeat after me—with this ring I promise to be your partner....”

Jessi automatically echoed the words she’d agreed to mere hours ago, noting with much embarrassment how breathless she sounded now compared to Dillard’s resonant bass. No doubt the witnesses to tonight’s ceremony—Elaina Rivera of Rivera Employment Agency, and the preacher’s wife, name forgotten—could hear the tremor.

“I will respect, trust and care for you...”

“‘I will respect, trust and care for you...”’

“From this day, forever.”

Forever? Jessi’s heart stopped. The word was forth. She’d written it herself. Was the old man ad-libbing or just too blind to read? Confused, Jessi darted a glance at Dillard, who, for the first time that night, looked a little bemused himself.

“From this day forever....” the bespectacled reverend patiently prompted, obviously used to nervous brides and grooms who forgot their lines.

Jessi swallowed convulsively. Short of making a scene that might alert this man of God to their unusual circumstances—namely, the fact that there was no chance of a forever between them—she had no choice but to repeat the line. Clearly Dillard came to the same conclusion at the same instant, for in unison they made a vow that neither intended to keep.

“‘From this day forever....”’

The preacher smiled. “By the powers invested in me by the state of California this fifteenth day of October, I pronounce you man and wife.” As though this was his favorite part of the ceremony, he took off his glasses and beamed at Dillard. “You may kiss the bride.”

So here it was...the intimacy she’d dreaded ever since she’d first laid eyes on him that morning. The butterflies in Jessi’s stomach fluttered wildly, the culmination of a week’s worth of prevarication, no doubt. Determined not to embarrass herself and Dillard by recoiling, she squared her shoulders and stood her ground as her husband stepped forward. Instead of kissing her, however, he reached out, grabbed her right hand and pumped it vigorously up and down.

“This is great...perfect. Thanks a million.” The next instant, Dillard released her to shake hands with the startled man who’d just married them.

Immediately, Elaina rushed forward to offer congratulations and, no doubt, distract the preacher and his frowning wife. Jessi, feeling shockingly cheated by the unexpected handshake, barely noticed. There followed a lecture on filing the license at the courthouse on Monday to make everything legal, after which Dillard paid the preacher for services rendered. He then scooped up his cowboy hat from a pew and hustled Jessi and Elaina out of the tiny chapel, a picturesque structure in the heart of the busy city.

On a rush of night air came a momentary lift of spirits that was mostly due to relief. It was over. Done. She was well and truly married...at least for now. The bad of it was that she had a husband who made her damned nervous. The good was that a few weeks’ worth of high adventure in the form of a treasure hunt lay ahead, not to mention a hefty salary.

Since the good far outweighed the bad—the man had furnished ten references, after all—there was definitely a rainbow stretched across yesterday’s bleak horizon. And in the pot at the end of it waited more than enough money to pay back her student loans and put a down payment on a house.

Then she’d find a good location and start her own catering business or maybe open a neighbourhood café or something.

“Dinner is my treat,” Elaina announced when they paused under the overhang of the porch roof, adding, “That is, if you two don’t have other plans...?”

“Actually, I wasn’t sure how long all this would take, so I told my sitter I’d be late,” Jessi replied. Anna Kate, her four-year-old daughter, was home in their Highlands, California, apartment with the teenaged girl who kept her when Jessi worked nights—too often this past year. Since those two always had a ball together, neither would mind if Jessi and her new husband...Oh God...dined with the woman whose ingenuity had brought them together.

“Gabe?” Elaina, an innovative employment contractor of national reputation, had turned to the groom.

“No plans,” he said, finger combing his shaggy brown hair and then settling his hat just so on his head.

“Good. The two of you have a nine o’clock reservation at Chateau en Espagne right up the street, there.”

“You mean you’re not going, too?” Jessi blurted in a panic.

“No, dear,” Elaina said, giving her shoulder a reassuring pat. “You and Gabe may have memorized one another’s résumés and vital statistics, but you still need time alone to get better acquainted. Much is at stake here for all of us. I want everything to go off without a hitch when you meet August Taylor on Monday afternoon.”

“Actually,” Dillard drawled, “‘a hitch’ is exactly why we’re here tonight, isn’t it?”

“So it is,” Elaina agreed. Laughing, she reached for the marriage certificate he held and tucked it into her purse. “I’ll just take this, if you don’t mind. Promised I’d fax a copy to our employer tonight. I’ll give it back so you can make everything legal before you leave town Monday morning.”