Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

About the Author

Siúil A Rún

Friday, 17 December, 1915

WANTED: A GOOD WIFE & GREAT SEX

SL Beabhar

Copyright © 2017 Siobhan Beabhar

All rights reserved.

This book is dedicated to my family—both living and deceased. Thank you for allowing me to explore my talents.

A special thank you to my friends and associates who inspire me every day.

CHAPTER ONE

Phoebe Marshall lifted the soiled tissue and blew her nose. The bugle-like sound muffled the laughter that penetrated the walls, and she could forget--for the moment--that her brother-in-law had moved his new girlfriend into her sister's home.

To his credit, Paul had waited a good month after Andrea's burial to tell Phoebe that he'd fallen in love again. But he'd finished that announcement with a couple more revelations. It seemed his new girlfriend was three months pregnant, and Phoebe would need to move out, preferably sooner rather than later. They'd negotiated a period of three months, which Phoebe hoped was enough time to find a new job and a new place to live.

With two weeks already gone, she had no plan in place. She hated making impulsive decisions about her future, and she hated knowing that Paul was already set to move on so quickly after Andrea's death.

Knock. Knock.

Phoebe sighed heavily and swung her gaze to the door. She wasn't particularly happy to have her solitude interrupted, even if she had been wallowing in misery. She stood up from her twin-sized bed and walked to the door. She'd barely placed her hand on the knob when the door swung open and Paul's lavender-haired, green-eyed girlfriend stuck her head inside.

"Hey there, Phoebe." There was a broad grin on her heart-shaped face. She pushed the door wider and stepped into Phoebe's room. Only a few inches separated them, and the dense child seemed ignorant of the danger in front of her. She stood right there, with her fake lashes fluttering as she looked at Phoebe. "Do you mind if we talk a bit?"

Phoebe did mind, but she didn't get a chance to object. Brandilyn breezed past her and sat down on her bed. Phoebe's eyes swiveled to follow her, and she abruptly closed her mouth as the petite girl made herself comfortable.

"I just wanted to say that I realize how awkward things must be." Brandilyn spoke with a thick Texan accent, and she emphasized her words with exaggerated hand gestures. "You know, considering what's happened within these last few weeks."

Everything about Brandilyn irritated Phoebe, and she couldn't help but wonder if Paul had intentionally gone out and found the exact opposite of her sister. Clasping her hands in front of her, Phoebe rocked on her heels and dropped her head forward. She stood stiffly, praying for the strength not to reach out and choke the girl. It wasn't Brandilyn's fault that Paul was an asshat.

It was true Andrea had been ill for a long time. Five years ago, not long after marrying Paul, she'd been diagnosed with an aggressive form of multiple sclerosis. At first, she'd tried to overcome the loss of her energy and libido. But when Paul complained that he missed the sexual intimacy between them, she'd proposed an open marriage with the only requirement that he returned home every night.

Two years after her diagnosis, Andrea woke up one day and discovered that she could no longer use her legs. The very next day, Paul called Phoebe, pleading for her to move in and take care of her sister. Even though it meant turning her life upside down, she agreed without hesitation. Over the period of three weeks, she'd resigned from her job, subleased her studio apartment, and ended her promising relationship with the guy who lived two units down. She'd sacrificed her blossoming happiness because Andrea needed her, and she didn't regret that decision one bit.

She did regret not planning for life after Andrea. While serving as her sister's caregiver, her whole life had centered around Andrea's needs. She'd been her sister's nurse, personal assistant, chauffeur, chef, and companion. She hadn't minded doing it all and for so little money. After all, she was a certified nursing assistant and had previously worked in a skilled nursing facility.

But now her sole client was dead, and Phoebe was facing the realization that she was all alone in the world. Their mother had overdosed on heroin when Phoebe was just five years old. With her dad long gone from the picture and both of her mother's parents dead, Phoebe would have landed in the foster care system if it hadn't been for Andrea. Her sister had only been nineteen when their mother died. They met, for the first time, outside a courthouse following a shelter care hearing.

Phoebe could recall being terrified of the stranger standing before her. But then Andrea had knelt down, opened her arms, and told her, "We're sisters, and sisters always take care of each other." And that's exactly what Andrea had done. In turn, Phoebe had cared for Andrea during the last years of her life.

Brandilyn didn't seem to notice the dark emotions rolling through Phoebe. With her hands still flying, she continued her little speech, "I was just talkin' to Paul about the baby and how frightened I am. Being a first-time mother and all." Her hands froze in mid-swoosh as her gaze settled on a picture of Phoebe and Andrea sitting on Phoebe's nightstand. Without a by-your-leave, she reached out and placed the photograph facedown, and then continued, "And since you no longer have a job and all, I was just thinkin', maybe you'd like to stay a while and be our nanny."

It was obvious to Phoebe, based on the benevolent look on Brandilyn's face, that the girl intended to be kind. But that awareness did nothing to stop rage from filling Phoebe. Just like Andrea had taught her, she swallowed the hateful words that formed on her tongue. Instead, she took several steadying breaths as she thought of a diplomatic answer.

"Have you lost your fucking mind?"

Brandilyn lurched backwards as if the words had struck her in the face. Her long, black lashes fluttered as she finally looked at Phoebe. From the darkening of her cheeks, it seemed she was realizing that her good intentions were not appreciated.

"Beggin' your pardon?" Brandilyn asked, standing up from Phoebe's bed.

Phoebe didn't answer right away. Instead, she dropped her gaze to the spot Brandilyn had just vacated. She reached past the girl and smoothed out the wrinkles she'd left behind. When Phoebe felt satisfied with her work, she reached over and picked up the photograph of her and Andrea.

She held it in her hands as she turned to face Brandilyn. She made sure the image faced forward. "Look, I'm working really hard to remind myself that you're just an innocent party in this shit show. That it's really not your fault that my brother-in-law is a scumbag--"

Brandilyn seemed to take exception to that. She covered her belly and stood straighter, as if preparing to fight for her baby-daddy's honor. "Excuse me?"

This time, Phoebe waved her hands, dismissing Brandilyn's objection. She tucked the photograph under her arm, then placed her other hand on Brandilyn's shoulder. With a gentle yet firm grasp, Phoebe guided Brandilyn back to the bedroom door and pushed her into the hallway.

"Have a good night," she said, shutting the door in Brandilyn's face. She held her breath until she heard the girl huff in outrage, then Phoebe turned to lean back against the door, waiting for her brother-in-law's likely response. She didn't have to wait long.

Within a minute, there was an abrupt knock at her door. Once again placing the photograph in the center of her chest, she stepped away from the door, grabbed the doorknob, and opened the door wide.

She struggled to hide a grin. Paul stood at her door with his already blotchy skin mottled from outrage. His nostrils flared as he pushed his thick glasses up his nose.

"Brandilyn's upset. What did you say to her?" Daggers shot from his light gray eyes. His thick lips disappeared into a thin line as he waited for Phoebe's response. When she didn't speak, he puffed out his chest and said, "Well?"

Phoebe poked her head out the door and looked down the hallway. Brandilyn stood far enough back to make Paul feel like he was in charge but close enough to hear what Phoebe said.

Rolling her eyes, Phoebe pulled back and puckered her lips. With each exaggerated breath, her breasts pushed the photograph up and down. She knew Paul had noticed the photo, but he kept his eyes pinned on her face.

Releasing a heavy sigh, she tossed the picture onto her bed. She then turned back to her brother-in-law and cocked her head. "Your girlfriend asked me--your wife's sister--if I'd like to work for you guys."

Crossing his flabby arms over his thin chest, he arched a brow. "And?"

Phoebe shrugged. "And?"

"What else did you say?" His jaw tightened as he inclined his head in Brandilyn's direction. "She's upset."

Squaring her shoulders, Phoebe shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "Oh, right." She glanced down at her shirt, then pretended to pluck a strand of her black hair from its front. "I asked if she was out of her fucking mind." She then twisted her features, leaned towards Paul, and lowered her voice. "You know her better than I do. Do you think she's lost her fucking mind, or do you think she's just fucking dumb?"

CHAPTER TWO

Ashley Cooper ducked just in time to avoid the vase hurtling towards his head. When it crashed against the wall and exploded into hundreds of pieces, he cursed. That vase had sentimental value. He'd purchased it at a local thrift store during a green-tag special. Ugly and crudely made, the vase wasn't worth more than a dollar. But to him, it represented the brilliantly good time he'd had with the pretty, red-haired store clerk during her fifteen-minute break.

Bending down to retrieve a shard, he tried to recall the clerk's name. Was it Heather? No, he didn't think so. Maybe Heaven?

"Are you listening to a word I'm saying, Cooper?"

As he continued to stare down at the broken pieces, he nodded. "I hear everything you're saying, Paulina." The moment he heard her shrill scream, he knew he'd fucked up. Ashley pulled his gaze from the floor and found Paulina storming across the room. His eyes widened as she launched forward, placing her palms against his chest and shoving him against the wall.

"You asshole!" she yelled into his face.

Standing this close to her, he noticed the acne scars she tried to hide beneath her foundation and concealer. He found it odd that he hadn't noticed before, considering how frequently he found himself pressed against her. But at this very moment, he did notice; the scars didn't detract from her beauty, but they reminded him that even aspiring models had their imperfections.

"I've been thinking," he said.

She tightened her grip on his shirt. Her full lips were twisted in a snarl, and her right eye twitched. He placed his hands on her shoulders and squeezed gently. "How about I make us a nice cup of tea, and you can tell me how much I disappoint you. Again."

It must have been the wrong thing to say, because Paulina suddenly released him. As if dazed, she raised a hand to her strawberry-blond hair, and she began scratching her scalp.

His eyes darted from left to right. Paulina, with her hand still buried in her hair, spun on her heel and stormed out of the room. He released a sigh of relief before he realized where she was headed.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." He ran after her, but he was too late. She had already entered his den and was standing at the glass case where he stored all his hockey trophies. He lifted placating hands in her direction. "Sweetie, we can work through this."

Paulina froze. Then her head and neck began to twitch like a zombie on one of those network shows.

"Paulina," he whispered, hoping not to startle her. He crept up behind her and grasped her upper arms. She was stiff as he placed his lips against the nape of her neck. He felt a slight softening in her stance. Emboldened, he then shifted his head so he could rest his chin against her shoulder. "How about we go grab some ice cream? You like ice cream, right?"

Her head swiveled and she cut him with a piercing gaze. "I'm lactose intolerant, you fucker!" She sprung out of his arms, grabbing his desk lamp. To his horror, she pulled back her arm and launched the lamp into the glass case, causing it to shatter into pieces.

"Why?" He knew he was whining, but he couldn't help himself. "You're being ridiculous."

Paulina whipped around. Her violet eyes were narrowed to slits. "Ridiculous?" She pointed at the shattered case. "What's ridiculous is that you care more about those fucking medals than you ever did about me!"

Ashley clucked his tongue. "That's not true."

She slapped a palm against his chest and pushed him away. "When is my birthday?"

He would have widened his eyes if she wasn't watching him so closely. Taking a deep breath, he propped a leg against his desk and sat down. He wiped all traces of panic from his face. "March 12th."

"August 30th," she replied.

"Well, shit."

He watched as she shook with helpless rage and then squeezed her eyes shut, tears running down her cheeks. Biting down on her lip, her nostrils flared as she sniffed loudly. After a few moments, she opened her eyes. He could see his emptiness reflected in those depths.

He opened his mouth, then closed it with an audible click when he failed to think of the right words. He was usually good at explaining himself out of these situations. It typically involved him making promises that they both knew he would never keep. But watching her struggle to maintain her composure, he decided it was better to remain silent.

Lest she decide to completely fuck up his stuff.

"I'll get my things," she said, pivoting on her heel.

He watched her storm out of the room and up the stairway to the master bedroom. Swinging his leg, he took a deep breath and listened to her slam dresser drawers and curse in Ukrainian. After another fifteen minutes, he heard the front door slam shut.

Pushing away from his desk, he looked at the shattered case and sighed with relief. "Thank God, she only broke the glass." He reached through the gaping hole and adjusted a medal that had fallen eschew.

When he finished, he left the case and walked out of his den. As he entered the hallway, he heard the faint buzzing of his vibrating phone. He pinched the bridge of his nose, then tightened his jaw before searching for his phone.

He found it on the dining room table. Picking it up, he expected to see a call from Paulina. Instead, it was a call from his younger sister, Jacinda.

Accepting the call, he placed it on speaker then plopped down into a dining room chair. "What's up, Jack?"

There was a brief silence before he heard faint voices in the background, and he realized his sister was not alone.

"I'm not bailing you out again," he said, tightening his grip on the phone.

He heard her draw in a quivering breath. "I'm not in trouble, Ash." Only family called him Ashley or Ash. All his friends, girlfriends, and co-workers called him Cooper or Coop, for short.

He tapped his thumb against the tabletop and waited for her to continue. After several moments passed with her sniffing and murmuring answers to someone else, he finally lost his patience.

"Look, Jack, it's a bad time. Can I call you back later?"

"Wait," she said. He could hear her shuffling, then the distinct sound of a door closing. "I'm not calling about me. It's not Fred, either. It's Aunt Reggie."

A heavy weight seemed to settle on his shoulders. He placed the phone on the table. "What's happened?"

"They think it was a stroke."

"And?"

She inhaled loudly. "And they don't think she'll last very long." Her voice faltered as he heard her struggle to keep her tears at bay. "Can you come home?"

He placed his elbows on the table and folded his hands together. He felt the heaviness spread from his shoulders and settle in his chest. "I'll see what I can do--"

"It's an emergency. A family emergency."

"I know that, Jack." He heard the anger in his voice. He took several deep breaths and reminded himself that his youngest sister was the most sensitive of them all. If he didn't adjust his tone, she'd abruptly end their conversation. "You know I don't have a normal job. I can't just call and tell my boss that I won't be in tomorrow morning. I have to formally request leave, and there is absolutely no guarantee that they'll grant it immediately."

"But you'll ask, right, Ash?" Her voice lowered to a whisper. "She's been asking for you."

His jaw tightened, and he ran his fingers through his hair. "I'll see what I can do."

CHAPTER THREE

Ash flinched when he heard glass breaking in the background. For the fourth time in nine weeks, yet another woman in Ash's life had resorted to destroying his belongings. However, instead of a dissatisfied girlfriend, it was his beloved Aunt Reggie having a royal fit. He rubbed his hand over his jaw and cradled the phone closer to his ear as he tried to decipher the curses Reggie shouted at her caregiver. Most of her words were slurred because the stroke had left her partially paralyzed, but she could still land a few clear zingers.

"Fuck you!" yelled Reggie. "Bitch! Ass-face!"

"You better come get her," the caregiver snapped into the phone.

Ash tightened a fist and struck it against his thigh. "I'll pay an additional twenty bucks an hour if you stay."

There was a pause on the other end. Throwing back his head to stare at the ceiling, Ash crossed his fingers and waited for her reply.

"Well..." she hesitated. "I guess."

"Thank you." He'd barely said the words when he heard a loud thump through the phone.

"Ah, hell no!" the caregiver yelled.

"I'll be there in about twenty minutes," Ash said, accepting defeat. He left his desk chair, grabbed his bag, and walked to his office door. "Can you hold on that long? Please."

The nursing aide hung up the phone without answering his question.

"Shit," he mumbled before pulling the door open. He stepped out of his office and heard phones buzzing from down the hallway. He walked to his commanding officer's door and rapped his knuckles against the wood. "Sir?"

Ash could hear a chair scraping across the floor. He was prepared to turn the knob when suddenly the door opened, revealing his CO standing with a coffee mug in his hand.

"Cooper?" asked Lt. Col. Walker. His black brows were raised, and a glimmer of amusement lurked in his dark eyes. Judging from the smile tugging at his lips, he already knew why Ash was knocking on his door. Walker stepped aside, allowing Ash to enter his office. "Let me guess. Another problem with your aunt?"

In spite of his CO's casualness, Ash stood erect in front of the desk. When Walker motioned for him to relax, Ash dropped his hands to his side before answering, "The home care aide is quitting. She said there was an accident in the kitchen."

"Ah." Walker sat down in his chair and steepled his hands. "What number is this?"

Ash actually had to take a second to count. Several aides had quit their first day of working. One had never shown up for her shift. A couple had lasted a week or two before leaving. One had lasted a month, just long enough for her to find another job.

"Eight, sir."

"Nine," countered Walker. He held nine fingers up and grinned widely. "Today makes nine, I think. Remind me again how many months your aunt has been living with you."

"Two, sir. She moved in about two months ago." When Reggie had moved into his house, Ash had explained to his CO that he'd be caring for his elderly aunt while she recovered from a stroke. Ash had promised that her needs would be seen to by professional care aides, and his CO had been willing to accommodate this new responsibility as long as it didn't interfere with Ash's duties.

Walker inhaled deeply then crossed his beefy arms over his broad chest. "And how many days have you had to rush out of here because of your aunt's antics?"

Ash squeezed his eyes closed, feeling the sweat gather at the back of his neck. Unfortunately for him, he didn't work in the private sector where he might have been able to take unpaid leave to care for his aunt. Since he was a commissioned officer in the Air Force, he had to jump through hoops to be approved for annual leave, and there wasn't much leniency for great aunts and grandparents. His job wasn't on the line, but his record was in jeopardy of being tarnished if he couldn't find a reliable caregiver.

"I believe this is the tenth time, sir."

Walker nodded. "That sounds about right." He pointed at the chair in front of his desk. He waited until Ash was seated before he continued. "Let me give you a bit of advice, son. You're what? Twenty-nine? Thirty?"

"Thirty-three."

Walker's eyebrows rose. "What? I don't know why, but you always struck me as younger--" He made a clicking sound out of the side of his mouth, then shook his head. "Have you thought about finding yourself a wife and settling down?"

Ash reared backwards at the thought. After twelve years on active duty, the only long-term commitment he wanted was the one he had with the Air Force. In another eight years, he would be eligible for retirement.; however, he had a good, clean service record with a solid reputation as a leader and warrior. If he played his cards right, he might be able to make it to Full-Bird status.

But his new role as Reggie's caretaker was jeopardizing that outcome. He was already struggling to keep his head above water, and he didn't want a wife to further complicate things. The last thing he needed was a messy divorce to blacken his reputation, and he'd been around long enough to know that was how most military marriages ended.

Nope. Reggie was enough. When she had a caregiver, he still had to relieve them at night. That meant most of his evenings and all his weekends were spent caring for Reggie. He hadn't been on a date in months. And to his surprise, he hadn't missed it all that much.

"I'd like to get married sometime in the future," he lied. "I'm not opposed to it. I just have a lot on my plate at the moment."

Walker nodded again, then he leaned forward onto his desk. His full lips curled into another smile. "I'm just thinking a good wife might be the solution to your current problems."

Ash's heart skipped a beat, but he pretended to listen. "How so?"

Walker glanced around his crammed office, then he got up from his chair and walked to the door. He craned his neck back and forth to see who was outside of his office, then he closed the door. He returned to Ash, leaned against the desk, and propped his leg up.

"Did you know I began my career as an enlisted man? Just barely eighteen, fresh out of high school. I was the ninth kid of fourteen, and my parents were immigrants from Jamaica, and they struggled to keep us all housed, clothed, and fed. For me, joining the military meant I could send money back to help my parents." He crossed his hands over his lap and stared at the wall beyond Ash. Ash followed his gaze and found a portrait of a much younger Walker, standing between a nicely dressed man and woman. "Of course, being unmarried and just an E-2, I had to live in the dormitory. If I was married, I could move into my own house with my wife." He twisted his lips and shrugged. "So I got myself a wife." He cocked his head. "You see what I'm saying?"

Ash nodded slowly as the colonel's meaning penetrated his mind. These types of arrangements weren't uncommon; it was one of the reasons there was such a high divorce rate. Just before Ash could answer, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. "I think I understand, sir. I'll consider it."

Walker stepped away from his desk. He walked around the desk and collapsed into his chair. "I've worked with you because I understand family. I also understand that sometimes family brings problems outside of our control. But we're reaching a point where their problems have become your problem. Understand?"

Ash pushed up from his chair. "Understood." He stood at attention and saluted, and Walker dismissed him. Ash escaped the office, keeping his head tucked low as he heard his colleagues in the hallway chuckle at yet another abrupt departure.

Luckily for Ash, it was an easy ride to his home, and he pulled into his driveway about forty minutes after the aide's initial phone call.

He hadn't even got out of the car when the front door of his house burst open. The middle-aged aide--whose name he couldn't presently remember--fled the house with her purse in one hand and her jacket in the other.

"You said you'd only be twenty minutes!" she raged as she rushed to her car.

"My boss needed to talk to me," he said, running to catch up with her. "I couldn't leave without his go-ahead."

She yanked open her car door and flipped the bird towards the house before collapsing into the driver's seat. She made to pull the door shut, but Ash latched onto it. For a few tense moments, they engaged in a tug-of-war as she tried to pull the door shut while he kept it open.

Releasing a heavy sigh, he rolled his eyes towards the heavens and softened his hold just as she yanked the door. As she fell against the passenger seat, her eyes shot daggers in his direction. He shrugged and leaned his elbow against the car. "Tell me what happened. Exactly."

The aide gripped the steering wheel like it was his aunt's neck. "I asked your aunt if she wanted a cup of coffee. She nodded, so I thought that meant she wanted some. I made the coffee, placed the mug in front of her, and the next thing I know, it's being hurled at me." The aide reached out, grabbed onto the door handle, and pulled it shut. "I'm not paid enough to deal with the likes of her." She started the engine, then rolled down the window. "No one is paid enough."

He had to leap away as she reversed out of his driveway. He placed his hands on top of his head and counted to ten. When he still felt the anger bubbling inside of him, he repeated the exercise. Once he felt like he had collected himself enough to face Reggie, he walked to the door and stepped inside.

He was greeted by a large round object hurtling towards him. He ducked in time but grimaced as the plate crashed against the wall and exploded into small pieces. "Good afternoon, Reggie. Having a good day?"

His aunt stood in the kitchen doorway. She was leaning against her cane with a furious gleam in her eye. With halting steps, she walked to his dining room table and sat down in a chair.

"Have you eaten anything?" he asked, removing his cover. He walked to Reggie, leaned down, and brushed his lips across her spiked hair. "I haven't either. I'll make us a couple of sandwiches. Does that work? BLT for me and tuna salad for you." He could feel the anger emanating from her body. It seemed to be the only emotion she felt nowadays. He thought he understood its source.

She'd been taken away from her home in Tennessee, dragged across the country, and plopped down on the opposite coast. Instead of being an independent woman, she was now beholden to her grandnephew and had to rely on caregivers to feed, bathe, and entertain her.

With his back to her, he felt comfortable enough to let out the pent-up emotion. Tears gathered in his eyes, and his throat felt constricted. He rested his hands against the counter, then tucked his head into his chest and struggled to regain control. After a few moments, he stood to his full height before swiping his hand over his eyes. Then he opened the fridge door and quickly made their sandwiches.

"We ran out of tuna salad. Luckily I found some roasted turkey in the drawer." He placed her plate in front of her, then returned to the kitchen to fill a glass of water and grab the medi-set. He walked back into the dining room and sat down beside her. He took out the medication, placed the three pills onto her plate, then held up the water. "I doubt she was able to give you the medications. Take them please."

He saw a steely glint enter her green eyes. She frequently resisted taking her pills, which was a common complaint from her caregivers.

"For me, Reggie." He plucked the medication from the plate, took her left hand into his, and placed the pills into her palm. "Please."

As he watched her take the medication, his mind replayed the conversation in Walker's office. What his boss proposed wasn't exactly ideal. He wasn't ready to get hitched. He didn't want that type of commitment in his life, but as he looked into his aunt's pain-filled eyes, he realized he would do anything for her. After his parents' death, it had been Reggie who'd placed her own life on hold to care for Ash and his younger sisters.

For years, she'd operated her own biker bar, but she'd sold it so she could dedicate her time and money to caring for her young charges. If she'd been willing to do that for him, surely he could do this for her.

Although contract marriages were frequent in the military, particularly among young enlisted men and women, they were frowned upon because they caused more headaches than they provided solutions. Not to mention, if such an arrangement was discovered, he could be punished for attempting to defraud the government.

Ash fought the rising panic in his chest. The Air Force would have a damned hard time making a case against him. People married for stupid reasons nowadays. As long as he and his potential wife had an understanding and kept any drama between them to a minimum, then it'd be damn hard for anyone to prove anything. But if it was found out, he not only risked a dishonorable discharge but also years in prison.

Biting into his sandwich, he looked towards Reggie who held half of her sandwich. She'd taken only a small bite, but it was more than she'd usually eat.

"Reggie," he said quietly, "you and I have to come to an agreement. I know you hate it here. I get it. I do. But the colonel's sympathy has worn out. I can't keep missing work to run home whenever you piss off another caregiver. So, I'm going to do something a bit drastic." He turned in his chair to stare into her eyes. She chewed on her sandwich, staring right back at him with a disgusted look. "I'm going to find someone you can't get rid of."

CHAPTER FOUR

"Are you sure about this?" Phoebe asked as Dana tied the blindfold over her eyes.

"Trust me, cuz," said Dana, removing her hands. "I always wanted to do this, but I couldn't because of the kids. Marty is absolutely in love with his preschool teacher, and Angie is looking forward to her next softball season. Maybe when they're older, we can move away, but in the meantime, I'll just live through you." Dana grabbed Phoebe's hand and lifted it into the air. She placed a dart into Phoebe's open palm, then wrapped Phoebe's fingers around it. "Okay. I've tacked a map onto the wall. As long as you throw straight ahead, you should have no problem hitting a city."

Phoebe wanted to leave Indianapolis and start fresh in a new city. But, she hadn't a clue as to where she would go and how she would get there. She'd shared her thoughts about leaving with Dana, and Dana had proposed this little game. Phoebe would throw a dart on the map and wherever it landed, she would move there.

"You ready?" Dana asked.

Phoebe rolled back her shoulders and shook out her arms. Her heart beat so fast, it threatened to hammer right out of her chest. She licked her lips, inhaled a slow breath, then exhaled through her lips. "Ready."

Dana clapped. "Okay. Go for it."

Phoebe gulped. She knew it was silly, but there were butterflies in her belly. This was her future, and she was casually determining it with a little dart. Wanting to get the anxiety over with, she pulled back her arm and threw the dart towards the wall.

"Oh my God!" Dana shrieked.

"What?" asked Phoebe, pulling the blindfold down from her eyes. She looked at the map. The dart had landed smack-dab in the middle of the Caribbean Sea. Squinting, Phoebe walked to the map and lowered her face closer to the wall. "Jamaica?"

Dana approached her and leaned her arm on Phoebe's back. She too squinted at the map, but then she pulled the dart out. "I think it's closer to Haiti." She drew in a loud breath. "Oh my God! You're moving to Haiti!"

Phoebe whipped around to stare at her cousin. "I'm not going to Haiti. Or Jamaica."

"Why not?" Her cousin looked crestfallen. She waved the dart in front of Phoebe's face. "That's the rule, right? You go where the dart lands. Since it landed between Haiti and Jamaica, I guess you can choose."

Phoebe pinched the bridge of her nose, before shaking her head. "I figured it was an unwritten rule that I was limiting myself to the US."

"What's wrong with Haiti or Jamaica?"

"They're foreign countries. I just can't pack up and move there. I have to get visas. Hell, I don't even have a passport. And, I think they only speak French in Haiti. I don't speak French."

Dana shrugged. "You could learn?"

Phoebe plucked the dart from her cousin's hand. "No way. The US only." As she walked back to where she'd thrown the dart from, she pulled the blindfold over her eyes. "I'll do it again. If it lands in Canada or Mexico this time, I'll have to do it over."

Dana released a heavy sigh. "Fine. Do it again."

Phoebe took a slow breath in, then as she exhaled, she hurled the dart towards the wall. She listened for Dana's excited scream, but none came this time. She pulled the blindfold from her eyes and glanced at her cousin. "What's wrong?"

Dana shifted from foot to foot. Her lips curled as her brows lowered. "Nothing." She shook her head again. "Actually, maybe you want to do it over again." She crinkled her nose and turned to stare at Phoebe. "You don't wanna go there."

Phoebe swiveled her neck to look at the wall. The dart had landed near Canada, but in the United States. Dana's lack of enthusiasm was rubbing off on her as she walked to the map. She pulled the dart from the wall and focused on the small puncture mark left behind. "Tacoma." She turned to face Dana. "Tacoma, Washington? What's wrong that?"

Widening her eyes, Dana joined Phoebe at the map. She leaned onto her tiptoes. "Well, I guess if it's any consolation, it looks a little south of Tacoma." She bit down on her bottom lip, then used her fingernails to pull the tacks from the wall. "Either way. You're screwed."

"Why? I thought it was pretty nice up there." Phoebe left the wall and walked to the small dining room table where she'd left her laptop. She sat down on the chair and opened the lid. With a few clicks of her finger, she opened a website for classifieds in the Tacoma area. "Good news. It looks like there's a lot of hospitals in that area." She glanced over the top of her monitor and grinned at Dana. "It's even near a huge military base."

"I know," Dana said, joining Phoebe at the table. She propped her chin on her hand. "Trust me. I know there's a lot of military out there, but that's nothing compared to how friggin' expensive it is. The cost of living is ridiculous compared to Indy. You're not going to get far on a CNA's salary."

Her cousin was right, Phoebe knew. She'd heard about how much of a tech center the Puget Sound region was. But from her quick search on the web, she'd already discovered several nursing programs in the area.

"I think this will work for me," Phoebe said. "I'm positive there's going to be open jobs for home care aides. I can pick up a second job, if necessary, while I enroll in a community college and get my associate's degree in nursing."

This was the most optimistic Phoebe had felt in months. Since her sister's death, she'd felt like her whole world was spinning out of control, and there was nothing she could do to slow it down. But this felt right to her. A fresh start in a new city was truly what she needed.

She patted Dana's hand. She knew her cousin worried about her own finances. They shared that worry. But Phoebe would make it work, even if it meant busting her ass for the next few years. "It'll all work out. I just know it will." She withdrew her hand and closed her laptop, then she smiled sadly. "I'm sorry for getting you into hot water." Dana's landlord had learned about Phoebe's living in the apartment, and he'd demanded that Phoebe either be added to the lease or leave the apartment by the end of the week.

"Shit. You didn't do nothing. If it wasn't for that nosy broad from next door, everything would be cool. Everything was fine these past few weeks, then she goes and blabs," Dana muttered, reclining in her seat. "But whatever. Maybe it's for the best. There's already a glow about you, and you haven't even moved there yet." She tilted her head and studied Phoebe. "If things don't work out, you can always move back here. You can sleep on the couch until you get your money together."

Phoebe smiled, then glanced around the small apartment that Dana called home. Clean and cozy, it was too small for two adults and three children. She knew she could always come back here, but she would feel like a failure if she ever had to return to sleeping on her cousin's couch.

"I feel like celebrating," Phoebe said, picking up her phone. "When will the kids get home?"

Dana glanced at the clock on the wall, then grimaced. She hopped up from her seat and grabbed her keys from the counter. "Damn it. I should have picked them up ten minutes ago."

"I'll come along. After you pick up the kids, we can grab a pizza on the way back." Grinning, Phoebe slipped from her seat and wrapped her arm around Dana's shoulders. "Who knows, maybe we'll find you a good military man?"

CHAPTER FIVE

Looking for a live-in caregiver who won't kill her patient and won't steal shit from me. You'll be caring for an elderly woman who is so damn mean that the devil didn't want her. She's a wicked curmudgeon, but you'll be well compensated so her evilness shouldn't really affect you. And if it would, then this ain't the position for you. You'll be responsible for transporting her to and from all scheduled medical appointments, preparing her meals, and assisting in bathing and hygiene tasks. You should probably be in reasonably good shape otherwise you might get your head bashed in by a plate or something. Just kidding.

No. Not really.

Finally, if you haven't clicked out of this posting yet, then you may just have the balls to handle this witch. Compensation details will be negotiated upon an offer of employment. For more info, please feel free to email me. P.S. Nudes are welcome.

Phoebe's eyes bulged as she read and re-read the job announcement. It was a job posting for a home care aide, but it was like nothing she'd ever read before. She wouldn't mind the work as it was essentially what she'd done for her sister during the last few years of her life.

The ad was intriguing, but she hesitated to respond. She'd worked with difficult clients in the past, so that didn't concern her. She just wasn't sure if she wanted to work for a boss with such a snarky sense of humor.

A small cry emitted from one of the bedrooms. She heard Dana's mattress creak as she crawled out of bed. From over the top of her laptop, Phoebe watched her cousin stumble from her bedroom and enter the boys' bedroom.

This was a nightly occurrence in Dana's apartment. Even though she loved being with her cousin and her kids, the place was just too small, and Phoebe felt like another burden on Dana's small shoulders. With a heavy sigh, Phoebe clicked on the contact's email and drafted her message.

Hello. I'm responding to the ad for a full-time, live-in caregiver. I'm a Certified Nursing Assistant who has worked as a home care aide for the last seven years. I was employed with a home care agency for four years, then became a live-in caregiver for an individual diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. In that role, I fulfilled all of the duties you described in your posting. Unfortunately, my last client passed away nearly three months ago, so I am not able to provide them as a professional reference. However, I do have letters of reference from my previous supervisor and clients. I have attached them, along with my résumé. Thank you.

Even as a niggling doubt simmered in the back of her mind, Phoebe pressed enter and sent the email. She continued scrolling through the job announcements, clicking on other jobs in the healthcare field. There were many postings. Some were for similar positions while others were posted by staffing agencies. Most were in her target range for an hourly wage, but only a handful offered educational assistance.

If she settled for living in South Tacoma or Lakewood, she could make it on fifteen bucks an hour without having to find a second job. But it wouldn't be enough to pay for her college. She only needed two more general education requirements before she could apply to a nursing program. If she could enroll in school full-time, then she would be finished within three years.

What she needed was a position that paid at least twenty an hour or offered to pay for further education.

She was about to shut down her computer when she heard the alarm that signified a new email. She switched back to her inbox and found she'd already received a response to her email.

Hi there. I'm Ashley Cooper. Are you available to chat by phone? Ashley had provided a phone number in her response. Phoebe checked the clock on her computer and was surprised that it was past ten on the west coast.

It was odd for someone to invite a phone call this late, but some people worked unusual hours, and maybe they weren't available within business hours. Phoebe picked up her phone and punched in the phone number. She held her breath, waiting for Ashley to pick up the phone. Maybe she had misunderstood?

Then the line picked up. "Hello?" The voice was warm, deep, and distinctively male.

She felt like an idiot. Although there were dozens of legitimate jobs posted on this website, it was also known for being a place where trolls and catfish lurked. "I'm sorry for calling so late. I was given this number by a potential employer."

"Yeah. That's me."

"Oh," she said, twisting her lips. That website was also known for a third thing. A pick-up joint for prostitutes and johns. "This is about the caregiver position, right? Working with the elderly lady."

"You mean the Devil's Spawn?"

"Uh. Well, I think so." She held the phone against her ear and waited for his response. There was dead air on the other side. She felt like she was failing this phone interview. "Again, I'm sorry for calling this late. My name is Phoebe Marshall. I was calling to speak with Ashley Cooper?"

"I'm Ashley." There was a chuckle on the other end. "Trust me, I'm used to the confusion. You were expecting a woman? Perhaps a woman with a bubbly personality and a high-pitched voice? Well, at least, that's how I would imagine a female Ashley if I knew one." There was a brief pause. "Where are you located, Phoebe?"

"I'm still in Indianapolis. Is that a problem?"

"No. Not a problem." There was a muffling sound on the other end. She could hear another voice in the background. Now that one was distinctly female.

"Sorry about that," Ashley said. "My aunt was telling me to get the hell out of her room." He sighed. "She doesn't talk very much, but when she does, it makes me blush. Tell me, Phoebe, have you ever worked with a difficult client before?"

She nodded even though she knew he couldn't see her. "I have, actually. One of my very first clients. She'd been through a half-dozen caregivers before I was assigned to her. She was a ninety-three-year-old woman who felt and acted like a sixty-three-year-old. Her family wanted her to take it easy, but she wanted to live life to the fullest. She and I came to an understanding."

"What kind of understanding was that?"

Phoebe smiled, recalling Ethel Livingston. "I would take her to the riverboat casino every Saturday, if she promised to give me no trouble during the week. I had the weekends off, but I didn't mind spending my free time with her. She was hilarious."

"I take it she passed away?"

"Yeah," she said. "She died a few years back. It's not really uncommon with the work I do. If I do a good job, then they'll keep me on as long as I'm needed and--"

"When are you planning to move to Washington?"

She sucked in a breath. "I--uh--guess it depends. I'm a little hesitant to move out there without a job; at the same time, I'm sure my résumé is being passed over because of my Indiana address and phone number." She opened the calendar on her laptop and counted the remaining weeks of the month. "But I could start almost immediately. The only thing I would need to work out is how I'm going to get there."

"Do you own a car?"

"I do."

"Are you going to drive it out here?"

"I think so. It's an older car, but it has a good engine. It should get me there in one piece."

Again, there was silence on the other end. She couldn't hear any muffled voices. Then he returned to the phone.

"I'm going to be completely frank with you, Phoebe. I'm in a desperate spot with my aunt. I've missed a lot of work, taking care of her after she chases away a caregiver. And let me tell you, she's been through several in just a few weeks." He sighed. "So I'm looking for someone reliable. Permanent."

"I think I can do that. I mean, I should tell you that I'm planning to go to nursing school, but it's going to take me a few years to complete the program. Otherwise, I'm yours if you need me."

"Mine if I need you," he repeated.

She could practically hear the smile in his voice. "I mean that I am reliable and open to a permanent position."

"Good. Then we should talk about compensation."

She swallowed. "Your ad mentioned this was a live-in situation?"

"Yes, it is. I converted my den into a third bedroom on the first floor. She can't navigate the stairs very well. Your room, I'm afraid, will be on the second floor. Right next to mine. You'll have your own bathroom, but you'll need to go up and down the stairs a lot--"

"That's not a problem."

"Good. Good." He exhaled loudly. "You mentioned you were interested in pursuing a nursing degree?"

"That's right."

"What if I told you this position not only has health, dental, and vision benefits, but your education will be covered. I'll also add you to my auto insurance and phone plans. Really, the only thing you'll need is your own spending money."

She pushed up from the couch and began to pace. This was the type of position she needed. Her room and board would be covered, plus she'd have her education paid for. How could she say no? "What's the pay?"

There was another silent moment. Then he said, "Well, how about $1500?"

"A week?"

He laughed. "No. A month."

The phone dropped from her hand. She dipped and caught it before it crashed against the floor. Fifteen hundred a month was definitely much lower than she had anticipated, but when she considered everything else offered, it didn't seem so bad.

"Hello?" he asked.

"I'm here."

"I thought I lost you."

There was another wail from the children's bedroom, and Phoebe squeezed her eyes shut. Dana had opened her home to her, but she knew she'd outstayed her welcome. There was literally nowhere else to go. She needed this job. And she needed this fresh start.

"This sounds too good to be true," she said to him. "What's the catch?"

He laughed again. "I'm the catch."

CHAPTER SIX

Phoebe leaned against the steering wheel and peered out her windshield. She was parked three houses down from Ash's brown-shingled home. It was much larger than she'd envisioned, with a nice-sized front porch and a nicely manicured yard. There was one vehicle parked in the driveway--an older model pickup truck.

She wasn't expected for another fifteen minutes. The final leg of her journey had been a lot smoother than she'd anticipated. She was spending these last few moments gathering herself before she knocked on his front door.

He'd wired money to pay for her lodging and gas during the four-day cross-country trip. She'd tried to decline it, but he had insisted on paying her expenses, since he was unable to help her with the driving. In spite of that, it wasn't too late for her to back out.

Phoebe could turn right around and drive back to Indiana. She could return to Dana's apartment and plop right down on the couch until they were all kicked out. She would even pay him back the money he fronted. Her meager savings would take a hit, but at least she wouldn't be beholden to him.

She was terrified. What if this man was a serial killer? What if his aunt really wasn't his aunt, and they were planning to make her their sex slave? Phoebe searched for her phone and checked there was enough battery juice for her to call the police if necessary. Then she tapped her phone against her thigh before tossing it onto the passenger seat.

"What the fuck did I do?" she said, dropping her forehead against the wheel. During her long drive, she had thought about nothing else but this position. She was being offered a really good opportunity, one that would not only provide her a place to stay, but also fund her entire education. She would only have to marry him and stay together for the next five years.

It's not like she was dating anyone. There was no other marriage prospect on the horizon. And it was a temporary arrangement. One that would allow her some level of security. But, was she ready to give up being single just so her education was paid?

She turned the ignition. She drew in a slow breath, then shifted into drive. Within seconds, she pulled into Ash's driveway and parked.

"It's just five years." She opened her car door and stepped out. "Paid housing." She took a step. "Health insurance. Dental. Vision." She took another step, bringing her to the bottom of the porch. She placed her hand on the railing and took one step before the door opened. Her heart flopped in her chest as she dropped her foot and waited for Ash to emerge.

In the week since their first phone conversation, they had talked nearly every day. She'd offered to chat via video, but he had declined. He'd said he wanted to be surprised upon meeting her. She'd agreed; it wasn't as if she was marrying him for love or lust anyway, so what would it matter what he looked like?

She adjusted the shoulders of her jacket, then rubbed her sweaty palms against her jeans. But what if he cared about her looks? What if he took one look at her and closed the front door of his house? It wasn't like she could force him to keep his promise.

Lowering her head, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and waited for him to speak. When he didn't, she took a deep breath and raised her eyes.

Staring back at her was an older woman dressed in a denim jacket with leather pants and brown tortoiseshell glasses. Her weight was braced against a cane, and her gleaming eyes were shooting daggers at Phoebe.

Phoebe forced a smile. She waved and climbed another step. "Hello. You must be Regina? I'm Phoebe. Your new..." Her voice faltered. She and Ash had had long conversations about Reggie, but he had never mentioned whether Reggie was aware of their marital arrangement. Phoebe walked up the remaining steps and stood beside her new client.

She towered over Reggie by a good five inches, which wasn't saying much considering she was five-foot-six. They stood silently as they studied each other.

Phoebe immediately recognized that Reggie's short size was misleading. The small woman exuded confidence and intelligence, even though she looked angry and exhausted. Her garishly dyed red hair was cut short, and she had double piercings in both ears.

"I'm Phoebe," she said again, extending her hand. "I'm here to help your nephew. Ashley."

Reggie craned her neck to get a good view of Phoebe's face. "I know my nephew's name." The left side of Reggie's face barely moved, causing her words to be slurred. She looked down at Phoebe's hand, then turned away to stare at Phoebe's car. "Does that piece of shit belong to you?"

Phoebe recoiled a step. She looked at her car. "You mean the blue hatchback? Yeah. It's mine." She grinned, hoping she revealed every single one of her pearly whites. "Bought and paid for."

"Its metal is probably worth more than the car." Reggie twisted her body and pointed back down the street. "You were parked out there a long time."

Phoebe straightened. She didn't think anyone would notice her out on the street. "I got here a bit early and thought I would take a few minutes to gather my thoughts."

Reggie turned her green eyes towards Phoebe. "Regretting your decision already, huh?"

Phoebe didn't know how to take her question. Did that mean she was aware of the agreement between Phoebe and her nephew? "It was a long drive, and I just needed a moment to myself."

"Bullshit," Reggie muttered.

"God dammit, Reggie!" yelled Ash from inside the house. Phoebe felt her heart flutter upon recognizing his deep voice. "Would it kill you to be polite?"

Phoebe craned her neck to peer inside, but the room was too dimly lit for her to see him. She reached out to take Reggie's arm and was immediately smacked on the hand for her efforts.

"Hey," said Phoebe, withdrawing her hand. She looked at Reggie's outraged face and realized her mistake. She hadn't asked Reggie if she needed her help, instead she'd assumed that she did. "I'm sorry. I guess that's just second nature." She pointed towards the open door. "Would you like my help to go back inside?"

Reggie rolled her eyes. She shifted her weight until she faced the door. Then she planted her cane down and shuffled through the doorway.

Phoebe stuck her hands into her jacket pockets, shot a final glance at her “piece of shit car”, and then stepped into the house. The living room was lit by natural light. French vanilla scented the air, and she heard the sound of pans banging away in the kitchen.

"I'm back here, Phoebe," called out Ash.

She swung around and followed the loud noises. When she entered the kitchen, she found Ash kneeling down beside the oven with a bright orange oven mitt on his hand.

"Take a seat," he said, pointing towards a tall bar stool.

She did as he ordered, sitting down and folding her hands on top of the counter. In silence, she watched as he removed a baking sheet of sugar cookies and placed them on the stove. With his back to her, she felt emboldened enough to look.

He was tall, perhaps six-foot-two or six-foot-three, with broad shoulders, a tapered waist, and long legs. His hair was the color of French Roast coffee; his skin was tanned even though she noticed a few freckles at the back of his neck. He wore a green checkered shirt, dark denim jeans, and a pair of black and white Chuck Taylors.

"I've been craving cookies lately," Ash said with his back still turned towards her. He was sliding a spatula under the cookies and placing them onto a serving plate. "I guess it's the stress. Over the last month, I've gained five pounds. Mostly from eating sweets." He lifted the plate from the counter and finally turned to face her.

A wide grin split his face, revealing twin dimples in his cheeks. His dark brown lashes were long and curly, contrasting with his bright, amber eyes. His bottom lip was fuller than his top lip, but it only highlighted his perfectly aligned teeth. The man was gorgeous and, judging from the gleam in his eye, he knew it.

"Would you like a cup of coffee?" he asked, placing the cookies down. He plucked one from the plate, lifted it to his lips, and bit into it. He continued to grin as Phoebe watched him chew and swallow his treat.

Realizing she was gawking at him, Phoebe blinked a few times, then dropped her gaze to the plate of cookies. She took one and broke it in half. She could feel his eyes on her as she nibbled at its edges.

"Good?" he asked.

She nodded, looking up. "Your recipe?"

His brows lifted, and he walked to the stove where he raised an empty wrapper. "Nope. Fresh from the fridge section of the commissary." He laughed. "I'm passing fair when it comes to cooking. I've truly excelled at making spaghetti, frozen pizzas, and sandwiches. I'm still working on scrambling eggs properly."

"I'm sure your eggs are just fine."

"You say that now." He grimaced, took a step back, and rubbed the back of his neck. "You'll be singing a different tune later." He rubbed his hand against his chest, then offered it to her. "By the way, I'm Ash. Your new fiancé."

CHAPTER SEVEN

His fiancée did not look amused. In fact, she looked on the verge of panic. She crammed the cookie into her mouth, bulging out her cheeks and dropping crumbs onto her blue jacket. For the most part she averted her eyes, but he caught her sneaking glances in his direction.

He was used to it. Women found his looks appealing, and some went out of their way to try and hide it while others showed their attraction quite openly. His little Phoebe was definitely the latter, which was both endearing and, well, annoying.

She had no idea how relieved he was upon seeing her for the first time. He'd noticed her car parked a few doors down and had drawn Reggie's attention to her presence. Together, they had stood at the window while Phoebe had pounded her head against the steering wheel. Although he could see her in the car, he hadn't been able to make out her features from that distance.

It wasn't until she was standing on the porch that he was able to get a good look at her. She was of average height and weight with breasts on the smaller side and an ass worthy of second and third glances. Her black hair was piled high on top of her head, and her dark brown eyes were wide yet somber. She had high cheek bones and a wide-lipped mouth that seemed permanently curved in a frown. Sadness hovered around her, which was a complete surprise to him. On the phone, her husky voice had been warm and alluring, painting the impression of a fun-loving woman.

She was pretty enough in a Black Irish sort of a way, but definitely not his usual type. He liked tall, lithe women with pale hair and pale eyes. Women ruled by passion that enjoyed having a good time.

He knew immediately that Phoebe was the exact opposite of his ideal lover. Which made her the ideal wife.

"Another cookie?" he asked sweetly. He lifted the plate and held it close to her mouth. Those sad brown eyes focused on the sugary treats, and he could tell she was thinking critically about taking another. Then she shook her head and lowered her gaze.

"I'm not a big fan of sweets," she said softly.

He shifted his weight and put the cookies down. Squinting his eyes, he planted his hands on top of the counter. "So what's your vice?"

She lifted her gaze and squinted. "Pardon?"

Cocking his head to the side, he studied her. She was neatly put together, wearing a blue jacket over a v-neck tee and floral print leggings. She smelled clean, like a bar of soap with a bit of aloe lotion. There were two gold plated studs in her ears and one of those pedometer watches on her wrist. And from what he could tell, she wore no make-up, except perhaps a bit of tinted lip gloss.

Ash slapped his palm against the marble counter. "You're vegan, right? You eat snap peas and kale chips."

From the tugging at her lips, he thought she struggled to contain a smile. "I hate snap peas, and I don't think I've ever had kale."

"It's all the rage, apparently. Kale soup. Kale salads. Kale shampoo."

This time, she laughed. "What? You're joking."

He shook his head and walked to the fridge. He grabbed the carton of milk from inside, then removed a couple of glasses from the cabinet before returning to the island. Setting them down, he looked up at her and cringed.

"You don't do animal products, right?"

She grinned, leaned across the counter, and removed the carton from his hand. She then lifted one of the glasses and poured herself some milk. With a daring glint in her eye, she swallowed a gulp of it.

"Not vegan," he said.

She placed the glass down. "Nope." Picking up the other glass, she poured milk into it, then handed it to him.

He smiled, accepted her offering, then saluted her with the glass.

"Where's Reggie?" she asked suddenly, spinning on the stool. She was about to hop from her seat when he reached out and placed his hand on top of hers. Clearly surprised by the contact, she turned back to look at him.

As he dropped his hand away, his mind registered how warm and soft her hand had felt beneath his. He placed his hand back on the counter and drummed his fingertips. "She's probably sitting on the porch. That's about as far as she goes nowadays. Well, that and the bathroom."

"How is her recovery?" she asked, pinning him with her warm brown eyes. "Has the doctor referred her to any services?"

"I think I'm going to make chocolate chip cookies tomorrow."

She shook her head. He could see the confusion darkening her features. He blinked a few times, pushing away all thoughts of her dark eyes. He smiled crookedly, hoping to disarm her with his charm. "I told you. I'm totally obsessed with cookies."

A slight wrinkle appeared in her brow. "Have they provided a treatment plan?"

His soon-to-be bride was all business.

"There will be a physical therapist," he said. "She's supposed to help Reggie increase her stamina so she can stand for longer periods of time. Her doctor mentioned making a referral for an occupational therapist who'll help her with eating, combing her hair, things like that."

"Do you have the physical therapist's phone number? I can contact them and get visits scheduled. And, if the therapist approves it, I can do some of the passive exercises with Reggie." As if she was distracted, she reached out and grabbed another cookie. She broke it in half, and placed the other half back onto the plate. As she munched on the cookie, her gaze grew distant almost as if she'd forgotten he was there.

She ate the cookie in a totally efficient and methodical manner which impressed him. Then her little pink tongue made an appearance to flick away a sugar crystal, and he caught himself wondering what it would feel like to have that tongue flick across his nipples.

"We should probably grab your stuff," he said, feeling sweat gather under his arms.

She continued to chew with her eyes focused on a spot beyond his shoulder. He turned his head but found nothing of interest other than the coffee machine.

"Would you like a cup of coffee?" he asked.

Again, she didn't speak. She didn't even acknowledge that he had spoken. For the first time in what felt like his entire life, Ash found himself not the center of a woman's thoughts.

He leaned forward and waved his hand before her eyes. "Phoebe?"

It took three passes before her eyes fluttered and she focused on his face. He raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to speak. Her face darkening, she grimaced and smiled crookedly.

"Sorry," she said, sliding from the stool. She lifted her hands in a placating manner. "I'm not crazy. I swear. It's just when I get tired, my mind starts shutting down."

"Does it shut down frequently?"

She smiled again. "It's been a long day. A really long drive. I should probably grab my things and take them up to my room. Is that okay?"

He nodded. "Of course. I'll help you." He walked around the island and stood in the doorway. When she hesitated beside the stool, he motioned for her to go first. "You lead, and I follow."

"Okay," she said, sliding the jacket from her shoulders. She folded it in half, then placed it on the stool. "Luckily, I don't have much stuff. Just a few boxes and an old suitcase."

He waited until she walked past him through the doorway, then he followed a few steps behind. His eyes dropped to her generous bum, and he smiled as it seemed to be the most exaggerated part of his soon-to-be wife. Then he lifted his eyes and beheld the ugliest car in existence. He nearly tripped in outrage.

"This car seriously made it from Indiana?"

Phoebe walked to her small, old hatchback and placed the key into the door's lock. "Yep," she said, opening her car door. She had to pull the door locks up, something he hadn't seen in many years. She then kneeled in the center of the driver's seat, facing towards the back. She pressed her hand against the rear door's glass and pushed open the door.

He grabbed onto the door and wrenched it open. He noticed her flinch as the door creaked loudly.

"It's old," she said, leaving the front seat. She came to stand beside him, covered her eyes from the sun, and squinted at his face. "But it's got a good engine."

"How many miles?" He grabbed the box closest to him and hoisted it in the air.

Leaning into the car, her answer was muffled.

"What was that?" he asked.

She stood to her full height, then blew at a strand of her hair. The box looked heavy, but she seemed to carry it with ease. "Over a hundred thousand."

"Double," he muttered, turning away from the car. He skipped up the steps to the house, then trotted up to the second floor. He kicked open the door to Phoebe's bedroom and placed the box on the floor.

She entered the room soon after he did and dropped a box onto the bed. She glanced around the room with an impressed look on her face.

"This is bigger than I thought." She moved to the walk-in closet, opened the door, and stepped inside. She peeked her head out and grinned at him. "I don't think I have enough clothes to fill it."

He sat down on the bed. "You'll just have to buy more clothes, I guess."

"No. I guess I'll have ample room to store my hats."

"Hats?" he repeated.

She walked from the closet, knelt down in front of the box he’d carried, and opened it. She reached inside and pulled out an assortment of hats. "My inheritance. My sister collected them and when she died, her husband was going to sell them. So I took them and now--"

"Oh, dear Jesus."

She laughed. "Some people collect shoes. Others collect dolls. My sister collected hats, specifically knit hats." She placed a particularly hideous green hat on her head and beamed with happiness. "This one was one of her favorites. When I was a kid, she used to plop it onto my head when I was in a bratty mood." She yanked the hat off and tossed it back into the box. "Sometimes I still wear it when I feel totally crappy. Unfortunately, that's been a lot lately."

"How unfortunate," he said softly, pushing off the bed.

She hopped to her full height. "Excuse me?"

He raced to the door, then turned to face her. He grinned. "I said, how awesome is that."

CHAPTER EIGHT

Phoebe couldn't stop looking at his large hands as he placed the last of her boxes just inside the bedroom door. With his wide shoulders and long legs, he seemed big all over. He was damn near overwhelming, and it excited her.

"Is that everything?" he asked.

Smiling to cover her brief indiscretion, she raised her head and nodded emphatically. "That's everything. My whole life is right here."

He leaned against the doorframe and shoved his hands into his jeans. A crooked smile curved his lips, and childlike glee shone in his eyes. "Could I ask you for a favor?"

She knew he was pushing the charm level to epic when he grinned broadly and fluttered his long lashes. She tried to maintain a neutral expression even though her heart thudded in her chest. Taking a deep breath, she sat on the edge of her new bed and looked him in the eye.

She would like this man. She would share funny moments with him, and she would care for his aunt just like she was her own. But there was no way she would let him worm his way into her affections. She had dealt with too much loss.

The loss of her mother. The loss of her sister. The loss of her home. She would not deal with the loss of him.

Stiffening her resolve, she rubbed her sweaty palms against her leggings. "Depends on the favor."

Ash pushed away from the door and sauntered over to her. He knelt down before her, all the while maintaining eye contact. "Reggie's not been eating much lately. I know it's because she's tired of my cooking. Like I said, I mastered some basic meals, which have been on constant rotation for the last few weeks." His smile faded and was replaced with a pleading look. "I know you just arrived after four days driving but--"

"Sure," she said, cutting him off. She slid away from the mattress to avoid his penetrating eyes. She then picked up one of her boxes and entered the closet. When there was enough distance between them, she called out, "I don't mind making dinner. I'm not a great cook, but I think I can make us something hot and fresh. First, I'm going to do a bit of unpacking. When I'm done, I'll come down and see what's available in the kitchen." She held her breath and waited for his response.

Several moments passed in silence. She slid the box onto a shelf and turned to face the door, only to find him standing there silently. There was a look of consternation on his face as he ogled her. She glanced down, checking to make sure her stomach wasn't exposed or one of her boobs wasn't hanging out.

"Food." He blinked as if coming out of some trance, then he squinted down at his feet as he rocked back on his heels. "Food."

"Yes. Food." Phoebe cocked her head and studied his features. She thought she was alone in spacing out at random times, but he was looking to be a kindred spirit. "I'll make dinner." She shrugged. "I guess we can agree that I'll make all meals from here on out."

His gaze flicked over her then darted away as he abruptly pivoted and walked from the closet. "We need food."

Now that he was gone, Phoebe rolled her eyes and left the closet. She walked to the bedroom door and watched him trot down the stairway. She could hear him chanting "food" with each step.

Phoebe stepped out of the room and quickly followed him down the stairs. She'd barely reached the bottom when he entered the kitchen, grabbed a set of keys from a hook near the back door, then made a beeline right past her.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, watching him bolt to the door.

Ash's hand landed on the doorknob before he turned and looked at her. "I just realized. We don't have food."

She shook her head in confusion. "You mean like bread, milk, and eggs?"

"And canned tuna, mayo, cheese, bacon, whatever. All that." Scowling, he started to pat his pockets, starting with his jeans then moving up to his checkered green shirt. "My wallet. Where did I put my wallet?"

Sweat beaded at his brow, and his breathing was accelerated. He looked near to having a panic attack.

"Are you okay?" she asked, stepping closer to him.

He retreated a step and leaned against the door. His eyes were wide. His tanned skin looked pale. "I should get to the store. But I need to find my wallet first." He sprung away from the door and rushed by her in the hallway.

From where she stood, she could hear him opening and closing drawers as he searched for his wallet. There was one last bang before he returned to the hallway. He was prepared to rush past her again, but she reached out and grabbed his arm.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

He stared down at her hand, then dragged his eyes up to her face. He blinked at her a few times before he turned away and slid out the door.

She heard the engine of the pickup truck sputter awake. She rushed to the window just in time to see him reverse out of the driveway and speed away. Tapping her finger against the glass, she struggled to wrap her mind around what just happened. Was it something she said? Was he struggling with his conscience?

Phoebe retreated from the window and returned to the kitchen. She went to the fridge, curious about how much food was in the house. Opening the door, she was totally surprised to find three rolls of refrigerated cookie dough, a tub of margarine, and an expired package of roasted turkey deli meat.

"You've gotta be shitting me," she said, stepping to the cupboards. She was relieved to find a better supply of canned soups, jars of spaghetti sauce, and baked beans, but there wasn't much variety. "I guess that might explain the panic." She furrowed her brow and pushed the door closed. "I guess."

Biting her lip, she leaned against the kitchen island and thought about her present situation. Here she was, only hours into her new life, and she had no clue what she'd gotten herself into.

Ash's house was nice. His kitchen was open and expansive with stainless steel appliances, marble countertops, and ceramic tile flooring. It was a kitchen more suited to someone who spent a lot of time cooking, surrounding themselves with practical yet durable elements. And from her own brief exploration of the house, she knew the rest of the house was equally charming.

"Where's Ash going?"

Phoebe leapt in surprise and turned to greet Reggie. "It's a nice day, ain't it?"

Reggie stood in the entrance to the kitchen with a scowl on her face. She gripped the handle of her cane, while most of her weight shifted onto her strong leg. There was an ornery glint in her eyes. Almost calculating.

"Would you help me to one of those stools?" She held out her arm, waiting for Phoebe to assist her.

Phoebe stepped closer to Reggie. She was about to take the older woman's arm when she looked at Reggie's unstable gait and then the height of the stool.

"One second," Phoebe said, lifting a finger in the air. She shuffled into the dining table and grabbed one of the chairs. She carried it back to the island and set it down. "Here you go."

Reggie looked down at the chair and shook her head. "I said the stool."

Phoebe rested her hands against the back of the dining chair and rocked forward. "Yes, I know. It's just the seat is a bit higher than this chair, and it might be a wee bit difficult to climb onto."

"That's my choice to make."

"You're right. It is your choice." Phoebe knew she was being tested. This wasn't the first time she'd dealt with a difficult client. Reggie was trying to set her up for failure; if Phoebe helped her onto the stool and she fell off, then it would be Phoebe's fault. If Ash came home and found Reggie on the floor, crying that she couldn't get up, then Phoebe's belongings would be packed right back up, and she'd be ushered out the door. But by declining Reggie's request, she was setting herself up as the villain. Someone who wasn't willing to accommodate her client's wishes. She didn't mind being the villain, if it meant she'd able to keep Reggie safe.

Phoebe stepped away from Reggie and pulled the dining room chair with her. She nodded her head towards the stool. "Well then, you don't need my help getting onto the stool."

Reggie struck her cane against the floor. "I need your help."

"So I can help you into the chair, which is much easier for you to sit in, or you can climb onto the stool and assume your own risk. Really, it's your choice."

If Reggie's eyes were flames, Phoebe would be incinerated. The other woman lifted her chin, stiffened her jaw, and tucked in her lips.

Phoebe leaned against the dining room chair and smiled. She didn't challenge Reggie's gaze. She simply waited for her next move.

For what felt like forever, they remained like that. But then Phoebe noticed a slight tremor in Reggie's hand. A slight buckling of her strong leg.

Thankfully, Ash's timing was impeccable. She heard the rumbling of his truck as he pulled into the driveway. She struck her hand against the chair, then took a couple of steps backward. "While you make up your mind, I'm going to help Ashley with the groceries."

Phoebe left the kitchen, hoping Reggie took the third option available to her. One that she purposefully chose not to vocalize.

She walked through the house, stepped out onto the porch, then trotted down the stairs. Ash was at the passenger side, grabbing grocery bags from the seat. When he noticed her approach, he held out a couple of bags, which she happily accepted.

"I hope there's more than cookie dough and soup in these bags?"

Grabbing two bags per hand, he smiled crookedly. "There might be."

Phoebe watched as he entered the house. She waited a few seconds, listening closely for any shouts of dismay. When none came, she felt it was safe enough for her to return to the kitchen.

What greeted her was one big step forward. There, sitting in the dining chair, was Reggie with a triumphant look on her face. It was what Phoebe had secretly hoped would happen. Stifling a grin, she joined Ash at the fridge where she began unloading the groceries.

In spite of Reggie's testiness and Ash's strangeness, she was happy. Not only was this a situation she knew she could handle, she also hadn't been murdered.

CHAPTER NINE

"Would you like anything else?" asked the server, pouring more coffee into his cup. Ash could tell she wasn't offering him anything off the menu.

Ash smiled and shook his head. "This last cup of coffee is all I need, ma'am."

"Well," she said, bending just enough for him to catch a glimpse of her breasts, "if you change your mind, my name's Tisha." She winked, then retreated from the table.

He watched her go, waiting for the usual stirrings in his loins, but nothing happened. Dismayed, he glanced down at himself and wondered if he'd had too much caffeine.

"I don't know why I even bother going out in public with you," said his friend Bobby.

Ash pulled his gaze from his lap, then looked towards the kitchen doorway where Tisha had disappeared. "Because I always pick up the check?"

Bobby laughed and wagged his finger. His ruddy face nearly matched the color of his red hair. "There's that." He then rubbed his nose before slouching in his chair. "Is that Lenore?" He thrust his chin forward, towards the back of the restaurant.

Ash turned in his seat to look.

"For fuck's sakes, Coop, you're not supposed to be that obvious."

Ash whipped his head around, then plucked the napkin from his lap and threw it at his friend. "You're paranoid."

"Was that Lenore?"

Ash grinned. "Not unless she's lost fifteen pounds and shed a good decade off her age."

"I heard she's using the alimony to make upgrades. It's possible she went on a diet, hired a trainer, and found a good plastic surgeon." Bobby again rubbed his nose, and Ash noticed the tiredness around his eyes.

"You doing okay?" The bitter destruction of Bobby's marriage left a sour taste in Ash's mouth. When he'd first met Bobby, the guy had been happily married for four years. That was five years ago. Since then, Bobby had learned that his wife had been unfaithful during his deployments. And Ash's once happy-go-lucky friend was now a bitter, lonely guy who feared running into his ex-wife.

Bobby sat quietly, clutching his cup between his hands. He took a couple of sips before sniffing loudly. The divorce had been hard on him. He'd gained a good twenty pounds that he was struggling to shed; if he didn't lose the weight before his next physical, he risked being separated from the Air Force for not maintaining physical standards. "I'm good. What about you? Come to realize your mistake yet?"

Ash quirked his eyebrows. "What mistake?"

Bobby glanced around the crowded restaurant, then leaned over the table. "You know what I'm talking about. Your stupid plan to game the system."

"I'm not gaming the system." Yeah, he was totally gaming the system. But he would do anything for Reggie.

Bobby leaned back in his chair. "Really? You're marrying some girl just so she can provide free labor."

Ash chuckled. "Trust me. It's not free."

"Whatever." Bobby shrugged.

"This is a mutually beneficial relationship." Ash rapped his knuckles against the table. "And, if all goes well, it's only temporary." He cocked his head to the side and pointed at Bobby. "Just like yours."

"Fuck you."

Ash folded his hands on the table and grinned. "For the right terms, I'd be open to it."

Bobby laughed, then turned sober. "Look, Coop, I just don't want this to blow up in your face. `You always told me you had no plans to get married. I just don't want you to make a colossal mistake, especially when you can avoid it." He puckered his lips. "You don't know her. She could have a string of ex-husbands and a slew of little bastards."

"What happened to you?" Ash asked, squinting an eye. "You were the one who loved kids, remember? Now you're calling them bastards."

"Coop, I'm being serious."

Ash knew his friend meant well. Ash had spent the entirety of their friendship celebrating his singlehood, and now he was about to jump head first into marriage. "I did some research. Her credit's decent. No criminal background." He shrugged. "Plus, she's cute enough."

Bobby's brows lifted towards his receding hairline. His blue eyes danced in merriment. "Cute, huh?"

Ash nodded.

"I thought you were hoping for someone plain."

Ash nodded again. "Yeah, well, it didn't work out that way."

"What does she look like?"

"Why?"

This time, Bobby shrugged. "Just curious. Humor me."

Ash clicked his tongue and conjured up a mental image of Phoebe. "She's about five seven or so. Maybe a size medium? I don't know."

"Go on," said Bobby, rolling a finger. "That sounds average, not cute. Tell me more."

Ash released a breath. In the brief time he'd known Phoebe, he'd memorized her features, but Bobby didn't need to know that. His friend would crow about it and make it into a bigger deal than it was. Tilting the coffee cup in his hand, Ash watched the liquid slosh back and forth against the sides as he made his voice disaffected. "She's got black hair and dark brown eyes."

"Wait," Bobby slapped his palm against the table, turning a few heads. He lifted a hand in apology before lowering his voice. "You're telling me that your soon-to-be wife isn't tall, blond, and Northern European?" He threw back his head and laughed. "I want to meet her."

"You will. I need a witness."

Bobby sniffed and rubbed his hand over his nose. "You're really serious about this? You're about to be leg-shackled to someone you hardly know?" He squinted at Ash. "What are you two going to do about sex?"

Ash's eyes widened. He would have loved to tell Bobby that it hadn't crossed his mind, but it would have been an obvious lie. He loved sex. Except for deployments and his recent stint babysitting Reggie, he rarely went a few days without it.

When he'd first concocted this idea, he'd thought about coming to a mutual understanding with his wife. An understanding that included them being able to see other people as long as their affairs were discreet. But that was when he thought he'd be marrying a plain Jane, someone who wouldn't stir his interest.

It still surprised him how much Phoebe intrigued him. He could barely tolerate being around her for a few minutes before his vivid imagination took over. He found himself thinking about her frequently, to the point that he didn't find himself lusting for anyone else. Not even the women who fit within his usual type.

Ash flattened his hands against the table and stared down at his fingers. Soon he would be wearing a wedding band. And the thought wasn't as abhorrent as he had previously imagined.

"Maybe in time, she and I might come to an understanding. We're two mature--"

Bobby laughed loudly, once again drawing attention to their table.

Ash screwed up his face, but continued with his thought. "We're two mature and rational adults. She seems to like me, and I"--he lifted his hands from the table and placed them on his lap--"like her enough."

"You're seriously going to fuck this up." Bobby pulled a tissue from his pocket and blew his nose.

"If you say so," Ash said, pushing away from the table. "We better get back. Traffic gets bad around this time."

"Does your wife know you were eating out for dinner?"

Ash removed his wallet, counted out enough bills to cover the check and a generous tip, then walked away from the table.

"You didn't tell her, did you?" Bobby called out from behind him.

As Ash exited the restaurant, he started to feel a bit of heartburn. Stepping away from the door to let Bobby out, he began to pound on his chest. "I shouldn't have eaten the enchiladas."

"No one orders the enchiladas," Bobby said, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. Two young women walked past them, one shooting a scathing glance in Bobby's direction. He smiled apologetically but removed a cigarette and stuck it in his mouth. He took a couple of steps to put distance between himself and the restaurant's door. Then he pulled a lighter from his pocket and lit his cigarette.

Ash watched him, feeling the burning spread across his chest. He shifted his weight from one foot to another.

"By the way," Bobby said, pulling the cigarette from his lips, "that's not heartburn you feel. It's guilt."

CHAPTER TEN

Phoebe removed the last glass from the dishwasher and wiped the excess water from its rim. She was opening the cabinet door to place it on the shelf when she heard Ash's truck pull into the driveway. She hooked the towel onto the stove door handle, then walked out of the kitchen.

She'd just reached the living room when he opened the front door and stepped into the house. He crossed the room, pulled the hat from his head, and placed it in the closet. As he was untying his necktie, she walked to the armchair and sat down.

"I made you a plate," she said, stretching her legs out in front of her. She pointed back towards the kitchen. "It's in the microwave."

Ash shot her a glance over his shoulder, then unbuttoned the first two buttons of his light blue shirt. When he seemed sufficiently comfortable, he walked around the couch and dropped onto it. His head fell back, and he released a heavy sigh as he relaxed.

"I should have called," he said, looking at the ceiling.

In the five days since her arrival, he'd eaten every breakfast and dinner at the house. She usually packed a lunch for him to take to work, but there were times when he planned to have lunch with friends, and he would give her a heads-up. This was the first dinner he had missed. She'd wondered when he would come home, but it hadn't bothered her that he had missed dinner. She was more bothered by the fact that she had missed him.

She shrugged and placed her hands between her thighs. "You usually get home about five. I figured you either had to stay late or were meeting friends after work." She cocked her head and smiled. "It's no big deal. I don't need to know your whereabouts."

"Still." Dropping his head, he crossed his arms over his chest. He pinned her with his bright amber eyes. "Look. We should probably sort some things out. We've talked about what you'll do for Reggie, and what I'll do to compensate you. But we really haven't discussed our expectations of each other."

She puckered her lips but nodded in agreement. "Sounds fair. What were you thinking?"

His gaze fell to his feet, and he rubbed his hands together. "Do you mind if I'm frank? I tend to be blunt, which gets me into a lot of trouble at times, but I think it's important we just be direct with each other, particularly for this conversation."

She nodded again.

"Okay," he said, drawing in another breath. "There's an obvious attraction between us--"

"There is?" She felt like a deer caught in headlights. Totally exposed and unprepared. She didn't want to have this conversation. She would have much preferred that they continued to ignore the chemistry between them.

His eyes widened for a second, then his skin darkened. He cleared his throat before continuing. "I mean, in the sense that we're both young and healthy adults. You're single, and I'm single--"

"We're about to be married." Phoebe noticed his discomfort. He was tugging at his tie that was already loosened as he wiggled deeper into the billowy cushions. For a guy who valued frankness, he seemed to be beating around the bush. "I take it that you're concerned this relationship may become something more than just a convenient arrangement?"

"I just want to be clear that I don't expect you to...um... feel obligated to have sex with me or anything." He raised a pleading hand. "Not that we couldn't have sex, but it's just not part of the arrangement." He closed his eyes and shook his head. "I mean that if we never sleep with each other, you'll still have a place to stay, and I'll be responsible for all the things we talked about. That's what my lawyer has drafted in the prenup you'll sign."

His lips quirked at the corners, then he rubbed his palms against his thighs. "When we're married, you'll become my dependent. I'll take you to get your DOD ID, and that's what you'll use to access the base and all the benefits."

She stifled her relief at the abrupt change in topic. Neither sex nor love factored into her plans. She would care for his aunt, and he would help her become a registered nurse. So what if she had to marry him in order to achieve her ultimate goal?

"Does it replace my driver's license?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No. It's just another ID, but it's a federal ID. If you need to go to the doctor, they'll ask for your ID. If you go to the commissary--"

"Which is like a grocery store, right?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Then there's the BX, or base exchange, where you can pick up furniture, clothing, and stuff. The base is like its own little city, with a theater, post office, banks, and fast food restaurants." He made a clicking sound out of the corner of his mouth, then leaned forward, placing his arms against his thighs. "After 9-11, there were changes to the GI Bill which allow spouses to use it for educational benefits. Since my inheritance paid for my education, I never needed to use the Bill. When we're married, I'll apply to have it transferred to you. Once it's yours, then it's pretty much yours, even after we divorce."

They stared at each other. The silence thickened as the situation truly became real to her. This man, a man she'd only known for two weeks, was going to be her husband.

"If for some reason we don't make it the full five years, I'll make arrangements for you and Reggie."

She shook her head. "You don't think we'll get along?"

He laughed and pushed to his feet. He walked to where she sat and offered her his hand. Phoebe stared at his palm, then dragged her gaze up to his eyes. She placed her hand into his and his fingers immediately closed around hers, enveloping her with his warmth and strength.

Ash pulled her to her feet, bringing her very close to his body. Dropping her hand, he grasped her forearms, and she found herself leaning into him.

"What I mean," Ash said, licking his lips, "is that if something happens to me, then you'll be taken care of. I don't expect to deploy for another year or so, but we'll talk more about that when the time comes."

Dread filled Phoebe's stomach as she looked at him. She knew he was in the military, but it hadn't really crossed her mind that he could be deployed anytime soon. And, it certainly never entered her thoughts that when he left her life, it wouldn't be due to a mutually agreed upon parting.

It disturbed her. She'd known him for such a short time, but she already cared about him. Even if it was just a teensy-weensy bit.

"So when are we going to do this?" she asked, raising her head and straightening her back. She wasn't one to indulge in the unknown. She rarely enjoyed surprises, and she hated feeling unprepared, but she was committed to seeing this through.

It was just for five years. Just five years. Dear God. It was five years.

She was so caught up in her growing anxiety that she hadn't noticed when Ash had shifted even closer to her. Her face was nearly pressed into the crook of his neck. One of his arms was now wrapped around her waist and rested at her pelvis. His nose and mouth were brushing the fine hairs at her temple.

She flinched, which only resulted in him tightening his arm. She could practically feel his heart beating through his crisp blue shirt. "Earlier you mentioned something about us... you know... having sex."

"Uh huh." His lips were now touching her skin. With his right arm resting at her pelvis, his free hand hung to his side, leaving her room to escape if she wanted to. But she didn't.

"I think I better set some ground rules around that."

"Mm hmm," he murmured. His lips were now at her cheekbone, and they were inching closer to her mouth.

She pulled away, not entirely breaking their embrace, but putting distance between herself and those glorious lips. "We should think of this as a business relationship."

One of his dark brows arched. "Meaning?"

She planted her palms against his chest and pushed him away.

Ash fell back a step. His jaw tightened for just a moment but then he grinned roguishly. "Everything's negotiable."

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Ash walked into the kitchen with his laptop in his hands. He placed it on the kitchen island, right beside the bowl of green beans that Phoebe had just rinsed off. With a dramatic flair, he flipped up the lid and turned the laptop so the monitor was visible to her.

From the corner of his eye, he watched her prepare their dinner. Her black hair was piled on top of her head in the usual messy bun. He'd ever seen it hanging loose around her shoulders, and he wondered how long it was. She was wearing an old pair of faded denim overalls with a white tank top underneath.

To his surprise, and utter delight, he enjoyed the simplicity of her style. She always seemed so fresh and clean. Totally uncomplicated when he compared her to his exes.

This woman, so unlike the women of his past, would soon be his wife. As each day passed, he found himself growing more and more comfortable with being leg-shackled. Not to just anyone, but to his dour-faced Phoebe who wanted to keep things strictly professional between them.

He should totally agree with her position. He should keep his distance and treat her more like an employee than a spouse. But he'd be damned if he would.

"You ready?" he asked, stealing a bean from the bowl. She stared into the bowl as if she was counting the remaining beans. Chuckling, he typed in the address to the Pierce County website and clicked to the application for a marriage license.

Phoebe snapped another bean in half, then tossed it into the bowl. She took the towel draped over her shoulder and wiped her hands clean.

"We apply online," she said. "Then go into the office, show them our IDs and pay the fee. Three days later, we're married."

He nodded while he entered in their information. "What's your middle name?"

"Clarice."

He swiveled his head. "Clarice? As in 'Hello, Clarice'?"

She jabbed him with her elbow. "Don't ever call me that, do you hear me? I hate that name."

"I would, too."

Placing her hand on the countertop, she squinted in his direction. "And what's your middle name?"

He simply smiled and typed in his own name.

"Wentworth," she said.

He nodded.

"Ashley Wentworth Cooper."

"Technically, it's Ashley Wentworth Philip Hughes-Cooper." He shrugged and grinned. "But there's rarely enough spaces for me to enter my full name."

Phoebe lifted her hand to her mouth, mimicking someone holding a tea cup with their pinkie finger extended. "How very aristocratic."

He braced his legs apart as he focused on his typing. His fingers flew over the keyboard as he completed the application. "You were born in Indiana, right?"

"Yep." She leaned onto his arm to see the screen. "You were born in Pennsylvania? I thought I detected a slight Southern accent?"

He inclined his head. "You'd be right. I was born in Gladwyne, a suburb of Philadelphia, but I was raised mostly in Tennessee, just outside of Nashville."

"Was your dad also in the military?"

"He was a psychiatrist and professor at Penn." He smiled sadly. "When my parents died, my sisters and I were sent to Tennessee where my mother was from."

Ash could see the sympathy lingering in Phoebe's dark eyes. Whenever he talked about his parents with a woman--and he rarely did--he usually steered the conversation away at this point. But he'd learned a little bit about her history when they'd talked over the telephone before she left for Washington. He'd learned about her dream of being a nurse and her dedication to her sister. She'd even told him that she hadn't been raised by her own mother.

"My father was from a wealthy Virginian family. My grandfather was a federal judge, and my great-grandfather was a state senator who campaigned a few times to be governor." He submitted their application, then closed the laptop. "My mother, on the other hand, was from a dirt-poor family from Appalachia. They met when my dad was completing a fellowship at the clinic in my mom's town. My dad's parents weren't too happy about their marriage, so they disowned him."

"I take it Reggie was your mother's aunt?"

He nodded. "When my parents died, my dad was survived by two brothers, a sister, and both of his parents. None of them stepped forward to take me and my sisters after the car accident. It was Reggie who took us." He placed his elbow on the counter and leaned onto it. He plucked another bean from the bowl and popped it into his mouth. "That's why it's important I take care of her now. She didn't have to take us, but she did because we're family. I could easily find a good nursing home and stash her mean ass in there, but it would be wrong. She'll stay with me as long as she needs to, whether that's until she's recovered enough to go back home or..." He didn't finish the thought.

He stepped around Phoebe and walked to the stove. He lifted the top of the sauté pan, allowing the steam to float up to his face. He inhaled deeply before flashing her a smile. "I love smothered pork chops."

"Good," she said, walking to stand beside him. She pulled the lid from his hand and placed it down onto the pan. "Gotta keep the steam in."

"What's for dessert?"

Her eyes were wide when she turned to him. Her full mouth curved into a smile, and he couldn't help responding in kind.

"You mean you're not making cookies?" she asked.

Ash groaned and shoved his hands into his jeans. "Can you believe we're out of cookie dough?"

"Really?" she asked before turning to open the fridge door. She bent down and surveyed each shelf, then closed the door and turned to him with a surprised look on her face. "You're right." An impish look caused her eyes to sparkle. "What are you going to do about it?"

He sighed and collapsed against the fridge. He raised his arm to shield his eyes in a dramatic pose. "I guess I could go buy some more."

"But?"

He dropped his arm and looked in her direction. "But that would mean getting in my car and driving to the store."

Phoebe laughed, then wiped her hands together. She walked up to him and placed those hands against his cheeks. They felt soft against his skin, and he found himself sighing with pleasure as he raised his own hands to cover hers.

"There's flour in the cabinet," she said.

"Is there?"

She nodded. "We also have eggs, sugar, and vanilla." She withdrew her hands and crossed her arms over her chest. "Are you following me?"

He most certainly had followed her. He'd followed the way her arms propped up her breasts. "I think so, but feel free to dumb it down for me."

She leaned past him and grabbed the canister of flour. She thrust it into his arms. "We have all the ingredients to make cookies from scratch."

"No, thank you," he said, dropping the canister onto the counter like it had burned him. He made to walk past her, but he felt her hand slide into the waistband of his jeans. The intimate gesture was one he'd expect from a proper wife, and here she wanted to keep things businesslike between them.

"Don't you dare go to the store."

He pivoted on his heel. "I thought you didn't care about my comings and goings."

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms again. "I don't. Not really. It's just that you're spending all that money on premade cookie dough when we could be making our own." She picked up the flour. "Homemade tastes better, plus you're not cramming all that artificial junk into your body."

He cocked his head to the side. "Are you seriously making an argument that some cookies are junkier than others?"

She slid the canister on the counter, then grabbed onto his shoulder. "Out," she said, pushing him towards the doorway. When they stood in the opening, she pointed towards Reggie's room. "Go get Reggie. Dinner's about ready."

Ash lingered in the doorway in spite of Phoebe's order. He watched silently as she removed a mixing bowl from the cabinet and placed it on the counter. Phoebe muttered beneath her breath. She didn't seem to know he lingered in the doorway, and he could hear her complaints about his store-bought cookie dough. When he realized she was making him homemade cookies, he leaned against the doorframe and studied her back.

He imagined the many days she would spend in this kitchen, cursing his name and baking him cookies. His wife-to-be. The future Mrs. Ashley Wentworth Philip Hughes-Cooper. She hadn't even been here a week, and he was eagerly planning the life they would have together.

Ash waited for the usual panic to flare. When it didn't, he spun on his heel and darted into the hallway leading to Reggie's room.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Ash stood near the windowsill, staring across the courtroom where Phoebe stood beside Reggie. His aunt was doing a fantastic job ignoring Phoebe, choosing to study the paintings scattered around the courtroom. Phoebe didn't seem to notice; even from this distance, Ash knew she was prattling nonsense.

He now recognized that faraway look she got in her eyes whenever she became nervous or upset. They had only known each other for two and a half weeks, and he was already familiar with the cute little quirks in her personality. As if she felt his eyes on her, she blinked a few times, raised her head, and met his gaze.

A shy, gentle smile curved her lips before she turned her attention back to Reggie. His aunt didn't seem to appreciate that; she rolled her eyes and bit down on her bottom lip. Phoebe clearly had no clue that his aunt was perturbed.

"It's not too late, you know," whispered Bobby.

Ash raised his brows and looked at his friend.

Bobby shrugged and lifted his hands to adjust the tie to Ash's service uniform. Bobby purposely tightened it, causing Ash to cough and gag. As he stepped away to put distance between him and his friend, Ash grabbed the knot and loosened the tie.

By chance, his gaze once again traveled to the corner where Phoebe and Reggie stood. Both of them were staring back at him with rapt attention. Reggie seemed satisfied, while Phoebe wilted where she stood.

Stifling a groan, he shot Bobby a furious glance. Then Ash crossed the room to stand beside Phoebe. He lifted her right hand, and he brushed his lips across her palm. She gave him another one of her tiny smiles, then she pulled her hand free and buried it in the folds of her skirt.

Her dewy lips parted. Her long, dark lashes shielded her eyes. Pink tinted her cheeks, and he wasn't sure if it was from the heat or embarrassment.

She wore a silk, wrap-style sleeveless blouse with a silk-tulle skirt that fell to mid-calf. Although her hair wasn't piled into a bun on the top of her head, she'd braided it into a coronet with loose tendrils around her ears. In her left hand, she clutched a small bouquet of pink roses and white peonies.

"You're breathtaking." He thought she looked isolated, scared, and alone. Their two witnesses, Bobby and a very reluctant Reggie, were both connected to him. She had no one to stand with her and witness this moment.

He eliminated the small distance between them, stepping so close that his arm brushed the side of her breast. He reached out to caress the soft skin of her cheek, which drew her attention back to him.

"You don't have to do this. We can figure something else out." It surprised him how difficult those words felt coming from his lips. He was so startled that he abruptly pulled his hand away. "I don't want you to do anything you'll regret. It'll make the next five years hell for the both of us."

From the widening of her eyes, she'd clearly heard the sharpness in his tone. She placed her hand on her belly and shook her head. "I'm not going to back out now."

"Good."

She stiffened her jaw. "Good."

Ash shifted so that he faced the front of the courtroom, then he offered her his arm. She swallowed but wrapped her arm through his. As he started to lead her to the judge's bench, Bobby approached and grabbed the handles of Reggie's wheelchair.

The judge walked from his chambers, wearing his long black robe. Placing his glasses onto his nose, he held an open bible in his other hand. "Major Ashley Cooper and Miss Phoebe Marshall, I presume?"

As they turned to face each other, Ash noticed the bouquet quiver in her hands. He'd always imagined that if he got married, it would be a hellish day full of regrets and second thoughts. He feared he'd faint dead away at the feet of his bride, so overcome with panic that he'd lock his knees and cut the blood flow to his brain.

But that wasn't the case. Instead, he held out his hand and waited until she placed her own into his. He squeezed softly, reassuring her as the judge began the ceremony. He didn't even hesitate when it came time for him to repeat his vows.

"I, Ashley Cooper, take you, Phoebe Marshall, to be my lawfully wedded wife. To have and to hold from this day forward. For better or for worse. For richer or for poorer. In sickness and in health. And, to love and to cherish from this day forward until death do us part."

Feeling pleased with himself, he grinned, hoping it conveyed to her just how easy this was.

But when it came time for her to repeat the vows, she hesitated. Ash felt her tug at his hand, but he tightened his hold. If she walked away now, he would let her, but he didn't think he would ever recover from it.

She squeezed her eyes shut, then drew in a deep breath and expelled it through her lips. When she opened her eyes, he saw that the hesitancy was gone, replaced by determination. With a subtle bob of her head, she stated the vows.

"I, Phoebe Marshall, take you, Ashley Cooper, to be my lawfully wedded husband. To have and to hold from this day forward. For better or for worse. For richer or for poorer. In sickness and in health. And, to love and to cherish from this day forward until dea--" Her breath caught for a moment "--death do us part."

"Do you have the rings?" asked the judge.

Ash looked towards Bobby, who stepped forward with his hand buried in his pocket. He pulled out his hand and revealed two rose-gold bands in the center of his palm. Upon seeing them, Reggie inhaled sharply, drawing Phoebe's attention.

Phoebe arched a brow and made to turn to Reggie, but Ash grabbed onto her hand. Phoebe jerked to a stop, as if suddenly remembering she was in the middle of their wedding ceremony. Humor lingered in her eyes when she turned her full attention back to him.

He smiled gratefully, taking a ring from Bobby. He slid his grandmother's ring onto her finger, then she took his grandfather's ring and slid it onto his hand.

The remaining moments of the ceremony became a blur. From the corner of his eye, Ash could see the judge's mouth moving, and he could hear words being spoken, but he could not tear his eyes away from Phoebe. It took the words, "you may now kiss your bride" for Ash to be pulled out of his trance.

He grinned broadly and stepped towards Phoebe. Placing a finger beneath her chin, he tilted her head. He bent forward to claim her lips, but at the last moment, she turned her head so his kiss landed on the corner her mouth. Then, she nearly hopped backwards to place distance between them.

"Trouble in paradise?" murmured the judge.

Ash turned to him and noticed the judge was peering at Reggie over the rim of his glasses. Ash followed the direction of his gaze and found his aunt gripping the handles of her wheelchair.

He knew he had to remove Reggie from the room immediately. "Thank you, Your Honor."

The judge handed him a slip of paper and said, "Take that to the clerk's office."

Ash nodded before placing his hand at the curve of Phoebe's waist. He applied a bit of pressure, prompting her to walk with him while he shot a pleading look in Bobby's direction. Although his friend groaned and rolled his eyes, he took hold of Reggie's wheelchair and pushed her from the room.

Once in the hallway, Ash wrapped his arm around Phoebe's shoulder and pulled her close. He kissed her temple, then released her just as abruptly.

"We did it," he said.

She nodded and glanced around the hallway. "Will you excuse me? I have to use the restroom." She didn't wait for him to respond; she spun on her heel and practically bolted from him.

He watched her go, understanding the need to put distance between them. Even though marriage to Phoebe didn't scare him, he was scared of disappointing her or making their five years together miserable.

Five years. Just five years. With Phoebe.

He looked at Bobby, then nodded in appreciation. "Thank you for coming."

"You know the guys are going to be pissed that you didn't invite them."

Ash shrugged. "Well, they don't know the full story like you do. They know that I'm caring for Reggie. I don't want any of them trying to piece together why I've suddenly decided to get married. If--or when--they meet Phoebe, I want them to think it was a sudden thing. A spontaneous connection between us, and we decided to get married."

"So that's why you didn't ask the Chaplain to marry you? Didn't want him asking too many questions?"

"Ottinger is a good guy, but he's a stickler for the rules. You know he reported Tomalsen for sleeping with that sergeant."

"To be fair, that was Ottinger's wife." Bobby shrugged and smiled. "Tomalsen and Garcia were married to other people at the time. Plus, Tomalsen was a Captain. Fraternization is a no-no."

"As is marrying with the intention of defrauding the government." Ash noticed the regret reflecting his friend's eyes. He opened his mouth to lighten the mood, but Bobby shook his head.

"I better get going." Bobby opened his arms and quickly embraced him. He looked in Reggie's direction. "Good luck." He punched Ash on the shoulder. "Seriously. Good luck."

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Phoebe knew she was lingering in the restroom. Water flowed from the faucet while her hands gripped the ceramic sink. Her heart drummed loudly in her ears as her eyes focused on the rose-gold wedding band on her ring finger.

She opened her clutch purse and removed a tube of lipstick. "You can do this. You got this." She was repeating these words when the restroom door swung open and two younger women walked inside. Phoebe angled her gaze in the mirror to see out into the hallway as the door closed; she caught sight of Ash standing right outside, his head swiveling to peer inside.

For the smallest moment, their eyes connected just before the door closed. She inhaled deeply, and held her breath for several moments before releasing it through her frozen lips. She pulled the top of the lipstick off and brought the tip to her lips.

She was applying the rich mauve color when the other two women walked out of their stalls. Phoebe stepped to the side to give them access to the sink. Hovering in the background, she could plainly hear their conversation.

"Dear Jesus," said the tall, blond woman to her right. Her pretty gray eyes were focused on her friend's reflection. "Did you see that guy in the uniform?"

Her auburn-haired friend quickly washed her hands before running her long fingers through her bouncy curls. "Are you fucking kidding me? Of course I did. We practically collided when I rounded the corner." She lowered her voice and leaned towards her friend. "I almost fell, and he reached out to grab me."

"You're lying," her friend said, turning on the water. "I didn't see that happen at all."

"You were already walking into the bathroom." The redhead turned and smiled in Phoebe's direction before pushing open the door.

The blonde shoved her glasses further up her nose, then grabbed a handful of towels. As she dried her hands, she looked at Phoebe, who was now standing in the corner opposite of the door.

"Wedding day?" asked the blonde.

Phoebe nodded, smoothing the wrinkles of her blouse. "My first." She shook her head when she realized how strange her comment was. "I meant to say, the ceremony is already over." She lifted her hand to flash the ring. "We're married."

The blonde squinted towards the doorway, then looked back at Phoebe. There was a hint of admiration in her eyes. "Is the airman with you?"

Phoebe nodded. "Yes. That's my lucky groom. My husband." The words felt foreign on her tongue. Phoebe tried to convince herself that it seemed so strange because there had been no formal engagement and now there was a very real marriage.

The blonde winked and grabbed the door handle. "Lucky girl," she said before exiting the bathroom.

"Lucky girl," Phoebe repeated, returning to the mirror. She looked at the door again before tucking a wayward strand back into her coronet-braid. Drawing in another deep breath, she walked to the door and opened it.

Ash looked handsome in his service dress uniform as he sat on a wooden bench across from the restroom and clutched his cover between his fingers. His brow was furrowed as he stared down at the hat. To his right Reggie sat quietly in her transport wheelchair. Her lips were puckered in outrage, and her eyes were focused on the doors of the courthouse.

"I'm ready," Phoebe said when Ash leapt from the bench. She walked to Reggie and grabbed onto the handles of the wheelchair. Reggie twisted in her chair, pinning Phoebe with a scathing look.

"I better take her," Ash said, sliding his hands onto the wheelchair handles. He waited until Phoebe stepped aside, then he began to guide them to the courthouse's exit.

For most of the short distance, they walked in silence. It wasn't until they stood near the exit to the courthouse that Ash turned in Phoebe's direction. A crooked smile curled his lips as his gaze traveled the length of her. "You hungry?"

She nodded, then pulled open the courthouse door and stepped aside so Ash and Reggie could walk into the warm sunshine. "What happened to Bobby?"

Ash looked down at his aunt, who swiveled in her chair to pin her nephew with a glare. He turned a crooked smile in Phoebe's direction. "He had to go."

Phoebe placed a hand on Ash's upper arm and felt his muscles contract beneath her touch. Her breath caught in her chest. "I was hoping he would join us. I was thinking about making lasagna."

Ash's face twisted in a grimace. "No way. We're going out to eat today."

Phoebe halted beside him. "Are you sure? I don't mind cooking."

"It's our wedding day," he said, reaching into his pocket to remove his keys. He pressed the button to unlock the doors, then he pushed Reggie to the passenger side of his truck. He opened the door and stepped away. "Do you need my help getting inside?"

Reggie didn't answer him. She simply stared at him and gripped the wheels of her chair. She propelled herself forward, forcing him to move away or risk having her roll over his foot.

Phoebe hooked her head towards the driver's side. She mouthed, "I got her."

Ash puckered his lips but nodded. He walked around the front of the truck, then slid into the driver's seat.

Phoebe locked the wheels of the chair before walking to the truck's door and holding it open. She watched as Reggie grasped the sides of the chair, slid from its seat, and transferred into the passenger seat. Phoebe bent down to tuck Reggie's dress inside the door, then she shut the door. She collapsed the wheelchair, hoisted it into the air, and slid it into the back seat.

When she finished, she slid into her own seat just as Ash turned on the ignition. He switched on the radio and pulled out of the parking space. With the exception of the classic rock that played in the background, the cab was eerily silent. Absorbing the lush, green scenery of the Northwest, Phoebe couldn't help thinking how anticlimactic her wedding was.

She wasn't much of a romantic. She hadn't spent her youth dreaming of a massive wedding. It just wasn't her nature to do extravagant things.

But she had imagined a happier occasion.

She studied Ash's profile as he navigated the streets of Lakewood. There was an unusual tightness in his features, causing frown lines around his mouth. He looked older than his thirty-three years, and it seemed so uncharacteristic of him.

She knew him to be light-hearted, choosing to find humor in just about every situation. But now he looked to be caught in the middle of an internal struggle. A part of her wanted to soothe him. To take on some of the burden he carried.

However, another part of her acknowledged that she was the burden he carried. Was he already regretting their marriage? As if sensing her watching him, he looked into the rearview mirror and made eye contact with her.

Her pulse accelerated, and she fidgeted in her seat. The corner of his lips quirked in a ghost of a smile. His amber eyes darkened, but he dragged his gaze away to focus on his driving.

She brought the bouquet to her nose. As the sweet floral aroma filled her nose, Phoebe closed her eyes and imagined a happier occasion.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Ash collapsed onto his bed and fell back into its billowy softness. His hand dropped against his stomach as he stared up at the ceiling. The day had been long, full of highs and lows.

Grunting low, he ran his hands over his eyes and brought himself up to a sitting position. He felt Phoebe's presence more than he heard her. He trained his eyes on his bedroom doorway and found her lurking in the dark hallway. He motioned for her to come in, then waited as she emerged through the doorway.

"Ash," she said quietly. She'd changed out of her wedding clothes hours ago and now wore a woven cotton nightgown. She'd uncoiled the coronet, letting the long braid hang over her shoulder. Her arms were bare, and she wore no socks or slippers. Her toes curled into the lush carpet while she waited for him to speak.

He didn't know what to say, so he extended his hand. She stepped forward and placed her cool hand into his, then he guided her to the spot beside him on the bed. Sitting close to him, her cotton-covered thigh brushed against his dark blue trousers. Unlike her, he hadn't yet removed his uniform. It would've required a lot of energy, energy that had been zapped by Reggie, who'd unleashed her pent-up rage the moment he'd escorted her to her bedroom.

"Is she asleep?" he asked, liking the feel of Phoebe beside him. She was close enough that he could feel her warmth, yet with the exception of their still-clasped hands, none of their skin touched.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed her lick her lips. He closed his eyes, then drew in a heavy breath and wiggled his hand free from hers. He could feel her eyes searching his face. He was drained, and he didn't think he had the strength to control his growing desire for her. Choosing to put some much needed distance between them, he sprung from the bed and walked to his dresser.

"What upset her?" asked Phoebe.

Unclasping his watch, he turned to look at her and immediately regretted it. He wanted to push her further onto the bed, hike the dress up around her waist, and bury himself deep inside of her. Instead, he dropped his watch onto the dresser, placed his foot on the bed, and began to unlace his shiny black oxfords.

"It's our wedding bands," he said, sliding the shoe from his foot. He repeated the same action with the other foot, then walked to the closet and placed the shoes on his shoe rack. He quickly unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it from his shoulders. He was about to unbuckle his belt when Phoebe appeared at his side.

Her brow was furrowed, and her dark eyes narrowed. "Is something wrong?"

His hands fell away from the belt. He lifted his hand, grabbed hold of his grandfather's wedding band, and slid it from his finger. He held it high, then walked from the closet, forcing Phoebe to retreat a step. He walked to the dresser and dropped the band beside his watch.

"The wedding bands belonged to my mother's parents."

"Reggie's sister, right?"

Ash nodded. "When my grandparents first married, my grandfather couldn't afford to buy them a proper wedding set. So for five years, he worked the coal mines and did odd jobs on the side so that he could buy my grandmother a proper ring." He nodded towards Phoebe's hand. "It was probably the most lavish thing he ever purchased. Unfortunately, my grandfather worked himself into an early grave, and my grandmother gave my mother the rings, hoping she would wear them some day. Instead, my father bought them brand new rings, and my mother gave her parents' rings to Reggie."

"And she gave them to you," said Phoebe.

He smiled and grabbed at his belt. "You should probably leave now unless you want to see me naked."

Phoebe brushed aside his comment and sat back down on his bed. "You don't have anything I haven't seen before."

"Well, that's encouraging."

She grinned. "I've cared for both male and female clients. That includes helping them dress and undress, take baths, and apply medicated creams all over their bodies." Shaking her head, she laughed loudly. "It's at a point where nakedness really doesn't bother me."

Ash felt a corner of his mouth curl in challenge. With a cocky tilt of his head, he unbuckled his belt, hooked his thumb around the waistband of his boxer shorts and trousers, and pushed them down his legs. Standing at his full height, he kicked the clothing from his legs then stood in full naked glory.

He smiled at the dazed look on her face. It was obvious from her expression that his nakedness bothered her. "Just another naked body, right?"

Her nostrils flared, and her skin darkened to a lovely dusky blush. In spite of that, she managed to make eye contact with him. "You're proud of that, aren't you?"

He placed his hands on his hips and rocked his pelvis forward. Her eyes followed the swaying motion of his thickening penis, then she shook her head and looked away.

"It's one of my best assets." He flexed for good measure.

But instead of the transfixed expression he'd anticipated, she dropped her eyes, covered her mouth with her hand, and hid a smile. She lurched from the bed with her eyes downcast and darted to the door.

He took a step to the side, blocking her exit. Sniffing loudly, he tossed his head and tried to look offended. "Where you going?"

She dropped her hand, revealing a grin. "To bed, before you get one of us in trouble."

Ash stepped towards her, but Phoebe lifted her hand and maneuvered around him. He then grabbed onto her upper arms and halted her departure. She, in turn, threw back her head and laughed.

"This is totally not going how I imagined it would." Ash grunted, then dropped his hands. "I think I'm..." He paused to find the right word. "Embarrassed."

She cocked her head to the side and placed her hands on her hips. "I wouldn't think that was possible."

"It rarely happens." Screwing up his lips, he nodded for emphasis. "But when it does, Jesus, watch out."

She simply stared at him with a silly smile curving her lips. He found himself responding to her guileless expression. His hand rose, then halted near her face. Her lips parted, yet she gave a slight nod. Encouraged, Ash traced the curve of her bottom lip with his thumb.

"You owe me a proper kiss," he murmured. He waited for her to utter a quip, but she didn't.

Placing her hand on his shoulder, she rose onto her toes and brushed her lips across his. Then she fell back onto the balls of her feet and smiled again. "There."

Rolling his eyes, he wrapped the long coil of her braid around his hand and reeled her in. "That's not a proper kiss." He lowered his head and placed his mouth across hers, feeling the warmth of her breath against his cheek. He felt the whimper emit from her throat, encouraging him to deepen the kiss.

He released her braid in order to grip her buttocks, lifting her against him. Her mouth opened with a loud gasp as his cock pressed against the juncture of her thighs. He darted his tongue in and out of her mouth, mimicking the type of dance he wanted with her.

He wanted to get closer, but she seemed to have another idea. She grabbed his wrists and shoved his arms away. "Five years is a long time."

Ash stepped away and rubbed the back of his neck. It was the only thing that kept him from picking her up and tossing her onto his bed. "I agree. It's a really long time."

"Which is why," she said as she placed her palms against his naked chest and stared into his eyes, "I can't expect you to be celibate the whole time. If you find yourself needing companionship, I won't make a fuss. All I ask is that you don't bring it home." She smiled. "Please."

Her request was reasonable. He'd had the same thought before he'd met her. "Is that your way of saying our marriage won't be a real one?"

"That was your plan, wasn't it?"

"Technically, yeah, but I was hoping we could pursue a separate agreement." He grinned.

Her hands slid away from his chest, and he immediately felt their loss. Regret lurked in her eyes as she stepped away from him. "I think that would just complicate things. What if one of us developed feelings for the other, but it wasn't reciprocated? It'd make our time together quite painful."

"I wouldn't break your heart. Not intentionally."

She laughed. "It's the unintentionally that worries me more." She brought her fingertips to her lips, then blew him a farewell kiss. As she walked from his bedroom, she tossed a final thought over her shoulder. "Just imagine if I became pregnant? That would certainly complicate things."

He stood alone--bare ass naked--in his bedroom, continuing to stare at the bedroom door where Phoebe had just exited. Just a few months back, he'd been living an uncomplicated life. A life he’d thought he always wanted.

No wife. No kids. No responsibility.

And now he was responsible for caring for his elderly aunt, plus he had a pretty wife who he was expected to keep at a distance. Things were well beyond complicated at this point. So what would one more complication matter?

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Phoebe hovered outside the bathroom door. Her hand was braced against the frame, while her ear was nearly pressed to the door. She was waiting for the water to turn off.

When it did, she knocked abruptly on the door, then pushed it open. A thick cloud of steam greeted her as she stepped inside the bathroom. She walked to the tub, but hesitated to pull the curtain back.

"Hand me my towel," Reggie ordered, sticking her hand out from behind the shower curtain.

Phoebe yanked the bright pink towel from the rack and handed it to her. Reggie draped the towel around her body while Phoebe pushed the shower curtain back. Then Phoebe leaned forward to wrap her arms around Reggie's waist. "Ready?"

Reggie braced her weight against Phoebe's shoulders, then lifted her leg to climb out of the tub. When both of Reggie's feet were safely planted on the bathroom mat, Phoebe stepped back to allow Reggie to finish drying off. Phoebe hovered near the wall until Reggie reached for her clothing. Once again moving closer to Reggie, Phoebe offered an arm, which Reggie gripped as she wiggled into her underwear.

After a few days of Reggie bickering and refusing to work with Phoebe, they had settled into this routine. Phoebe had learned to stand back and wait until Reggie reached for her. Otherwise, if Phoebe tried to initiate help, Reggie would outright reject it. Phoebe knew Reggie hated feeling dependent on her assistance, so she kept as silent and unobtrusive as possible, which seemed to work just fine for Reggie.

Phoebe lingered to watch Reggie finish dressing. "You got it from here?" Phoebe didn't wait for an answer, but walked to the bathroom door and turned the doorknob. "I'll be out in the hall."

Phoebe left the bathroom and spun the wheelchair so the seat faced the door. She locked the wheels, then gripped the handles as Reggie opened the door. Waiting patiently, Phoebe watched as Reggie twisted and sat down in the chair.

"I've made the usual. Scrambled eggs, dry toast, and coffee." Phoebe propelled Reggie's wheelchair to the breakfast nook, stopping at the head of the table. Then Phoebe grabbed the frying pan and scraped Reggie's eggs onto her plate. While Reggie lifted her fork, Phoebe walked to the coffeemaker and grabbed the coffee pot. She returned to the table to pour coffee into Reggie's cup, then she sat down at the table. "I've been thinking--"

"I bet that came as a surprise," murmured Reggie, lifting her coffee mug.

Hiding her smile, Phoebe leaned back against the chair then dug her hand into her pocket. She removed it and dropped a folded wad of money onto the table. "It's payday. How about you and me drive down to one of those casinos and play a little bingo?"

"Gambling is a waste of money."

"Okay." Phoebe grabbed the money and stuffed it back into her pocket before picking up the sugar bowl. She spooned sugar into her coffee, all the while studying Reggie's plate. She'd scrambled one large egg, made one slice of toast that she cut in half, plus six orange slices. From what she could tell, Reggie had eaten only a quarter of the egg, a few bites of toast, and all six slices of orange. "Would you like some more fruit?"

"I'd much rather have juice." Reggie turned and pointed at the fridge. "Don't we have any orange juice? Apple juice?"

Phoebe shook her head. "I'm afraid not."

"Why?"

Quirking her brows, Phoebe folded an arm against the table then lifted her mug to her lips. "Ash didn't pick any up from the store. I can text him and ask him to pick some up on his way home."

"Don't do that," snapped Reggie. She dropped her fork against the plate, then gripped the wheels of her chair and maneuvered herself away from the table. She went to the fridge and pulled open the French-style doors. "C'mere." She pinned Phoebe with a look until Phoebe placed her mug on the table and did as she said.

Coming to stand beside Reggie, Phoebe looked into the fridge. It was pitifully empty. Reggie looked up at Phoebe, then inclined her head towards the fridge. "You see how poorly he shops? The boy never learned to shop ahead. He always just bought what he needed to get himself through a couple of days." She shut the door. "That's because if it wasn't for you and me, he'd be eating out all the time."

"Got it." And Phoebe did get it. Ash had confessed to her that he only knew how to make spaghetti, canned soup, and sandwiches, so she shouldn't expect him to know how to keep a well-stocked kitchen. "Okay. Well. Change of plans. Instead of going to a casino, how about we take an inventory of what's in the kitchen, and what's not in the kitchen. Then we'll head out to the store and pick up some groceries. How's that sound?"

Reggie squinted. "And I can get some juice?"

"I can't see why not. There's some pretty good juices with no added sugar."

Phoebe noticed Reggie's jaw tighten, but she said nothing. Instead, Reggie extended her hand for a handshake. Phoebe straightened and without hesitation took Reggie's hand into hers.

"We're agreed," said Reggie.

"Good." Phoebe left Reggie's side to return to the table, where she grabbed the breakfast plate and coffee mugs. She quickly rinsed them off in the sink, then placed them into the dishwasher. She washed her hands and grabbed her purse from the counter. Removing a notepad, she slapped it onto the counter and clicked her pen. "I already know we need fresh vegetables. Maybe a few boxes of cereal."

"No more cookie dough." There was a sour expression on Reggie's face. "Ash is getting fat."

Phoebe smiled. "He looks fit enough to me. I don't think a few pounds will kill him."

"No," said Reggie, "but a few pounds could kill his career."

"Seriously?"

Reggie nodded. "Seriously. The military has strict standards. Ash has to maintain a certain body fat ratio and meet physical fitness expectations."

"I didn't know that." Phoebe wrote down various veggies and fruits, then added ground turkey and hamburger to the list. "Anything else we need?"

"Condoms."

Phoebe blinked, then pinned Reggie with her eyes. Turning to press her back against the counter, she squared her shoulders. "Condoms? Anything I should know about?"

Reggie tilted her head. "Not for me." She pointed at Phoebe. "That's for you."

Phoebe closed the flap to the notepad and shoved it back into her purse. She didn't respond to Reggie's comment, instead she placed her purse strap over her shoulder and removed her car keys. "You ready to go?"

Resting her elbows on the chair's armrests, Reggie folded her hands. "One more thing."

Phoebe removed her keys from the purse, then walked to the closet where Reggie's walker was located. She pulled the walker from the closet and placed it in front of Reggie. Phoebe gripped the bar as Reggie pulled herself to her feet.

"Now I'm ready," said Reggie, taking hold of the walker.

Phoebe fell back, allowing Reggie to walk in front of her. Reggie's left leg dragged in comparison to her right leg but, overall, her gait was improving, as was her endurance. Reggie made it through the living room without Phoebe's assistance, but when they reached the front door, Phoebe bolted around Reggie and grabbed onto the knob. She opened the door, and then pushed open the screen door so Reggie could walk onto the porch.

They continued this back and forth pace until Reggie safely made it to Phoebe's car. When Reggie stood at the passenger door, she scowled at Phoebe. "Are we taking this piece of shit?"

"You have another plan?" Phoebe unlocked the door then climbed into the driver's seat. She reached across and pulled the lock of the passenger door. She started to climb out of the car, but she heard Reggie call out.

"I got it. Just get my walker."

Phoebe returned to Reggie's side and held the door. She waited until Reggie was settled in the seat, then she closed the door. Grabbing the walker, she collapsed its sides, then knocked on the glass until Reggie reached behind her to unlock the back door. Phoebe grabbed the door handle, wiggled it a bit to the left, then yanked it until the door opened.

"Jesus," Reggie muttered, "what a dump."

Phoebe restrained the eyeroll that threatened to have her eyes fall from their sockets and roll into the street. Instead, she shoved the walker into the backseat, trotted around the car, and climbed into the driver's seat.

She made the quick drive to the local grocery store. She placed the disabled parking permit on her rear-view mirror, then climbed out of the car. She removed the walker, set it outside of Reggie's door, then retreated to wait near the front of the car.

Reggie climbed from the car and took hold of her walker. She then joined Phoebe, and they walked into the grocery store. Phoebe went to grab a motorized shopping cart, but there were none on their side of the store. Phoebe was about to go to the other side when Reggie motioned for her to stop.

"I think I can make it." She shook the walker between her hands. "I need the exercise."

Phoebe bit the inside of her cheek, but she nodded. "We'll try to make this quick."

"I'm going to go grab a few things," Reggie said, unexpectedly. She had a stubborn look in her eyes, and Phoebe knew better than to challenge her.

"Okay. I'll come look for you when I'm done with the list."

Reggie pushed her walker and left Phoebe standing near the entrance. Shaking her head, Phoebe removed the notepad and went about gathering the items on the list. After twenty minutes, she'd picked up everything she had written down, plus a few things that Ash might like. She was standing near the checkout lanes when she noticed Reggie walking towards her. As Phoebe greeted another customer, she heard Reggie drop a few items into the cart.

Phoebe pushed the cart to an available lane, then unloaded the groceries. As Phoebe watched the cashier ring up each item, she realized that it hadn't crossed her mind to check the items Reggie had chosen.

It was the “Ultra Ribbed Pleasure” that flashed across the checkout screen that had Phoebe regretting her mistake.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

"Ashley Cooper, what's your intention with that girl?"

Ash immediately recognized the ringing authority in Reggie's tone. Her words were still a little slurred, but her speech was improving day by day. And that was due to Phoebe's insistence on engaging Reggie in conversation even when Reggie was at her surliest. Tossing his phone aside, he turned in his aunt's direction.

"What are you asking me, Reg?"

Reggie stood behind the armchair, bracing her weight against her cane. Determination shone in her eyes, and he knew this was going to be a rough conversation. He pointed to the chair.

"Have a seat."

Reggie's jaw stiffened, but she walked around the chair and sat. She rested her cane against the chair's side, then slouched into the seat. She pulled a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of her flannel, and she struck the pack against the side of her hand. "You heard me. What's your intention with Phoebe?"

Ash placed his feet against the table and folded his arms across his chest. His head fell against the back of the couch, and he closed his eyes before drawing in a heavy breath.

"We've been through this before, Reggie. She and I have an agreement. She's your live-in caregiver."

"She's also your wife."

Ash smirked and dropped his arms. "That bothers you, huh?"

Reggie pulled a cigarette from the pack and stuck it in her mouth. "I better not hear shit about this."

"Should you be smoking?" asked Ash.

She shrugged. "I don't know, and I don't care." She lit the cigarette, then dragged in a deep breath before blowing the smoke out through her nostrils. She gripped the cigarette between her thumb and forefinger, placing her hand on her thigh. She sniffed and wiggled her nose. "Shit. That feels good."

"Coating your lungs with tar feels good?" Ash grinned and dropped his legs from the table. He rested his elbows against his knees. "That's not what all those studies show."

"Don't be a smartass, Ashley."

The grin dropped from his face. He straightened in his seat. "No, ma'am."

"It feels good to do whatever the hell I want." She plopped the cigarette back into her mouth. It bobbed with each word she spoke. "Why didn't you just pay her out of pocket for my care?"

He cocked his head to the side, then ticked off the digits of his hands and held up nine fingers. "Do you know what this means?"

Reggie's mouth twisted, and she looked away. She grabbed onto the handle of her cane and stationed it between her legs.

"You know what it means." He slid to the corner of the couch and placed his hand on top of hers. "I tried the paid caregiver route, and they all didn't work out. If I hadn't done what I've done, do you know what I would have had to do?"

Reggie turned back to level him with her hard eyes. "You would have put me into a home."

Ash recoiled in surprise. He shook his head, as if freeing it of nonsense. "You could've let me go to a foster home. You and I both know it. I wasn't the easiest kid back then, and it was much easier for the girls to find a suitable home." He squeezed her hand before pulling his hand away. He yanked at his jeans and squirmed. "But you didn't do that, even though we disrupted your life. Why? Because you're family."

"So what would you have done?"

He screwed up his features and braced himself for an explosion. "I would have moved Jack in."

"Fuck."

"Well, you had left me with no choice, but thankfully, I got this idea instead."

"I'm not sure which is better." Reggie shook her head. "That's not true. Phoebe hovers a lot, but she's a decent girl." Her lips disappeared into a line, and she leaned in his direction with her finger pointed. "Don't you dare tell her what I said."

He resisted the urge to smile. "I won't say a word."

"Good." Reggie withdrew her finger and fell against the back of her chair. "Which is why I don't approve of what you're doing." She pulled the cigarette from her mouth and held it between her fingers. "She's got a good heart, and I don't want you breaking it." She motioned towards the floor. "I've seen you leave a trail of broken hearts in your wake. I keep my mouth shut because you're an adult. They're adults, but Phoebe's more vulnerable." She stuck the cigarette back into her mouth. "You know she cared for her sister until she died."

He nodded. "She mentioned that."

"At least you and your sisters had me and those shitty grandparents of yours. All she's got left is a cousin." Reggie finished her cigarette, then snuffed the butt against her rubber shoe sole. She handed the used cigarette to Ash, patted his shoulder, and grabbed her cane to walk to her first-floor bedroom.

Ash watched her go, absorbing her words. He didn't need Reggie to tell him how vulnerable Phoebe was. He could see it in the solemnness of her eyes.

He knew she'd cared for her sister who had died just a few months ago. He also knew she wanted to become a registered nurse, and she didn't have many options available to pay for that education. As far as he was concerned, they would both benefit from this arrangement.

His aunt would remain with him until she recovered or--he hoped it never came to this--passed away at his home. If he had a job that allowed more flexibility, he wouldn't have had to bring in Phoebe. He could have taken paid or unpaid leave, but the military didn't really have that option, particularly for extended family members.

He knew he was an asshole, but he didn't try to be malicious. He liked and respected Phoebe, and he knew that he should keep his distance; however, every time she came within reach, he found himself wanting to draw her close and shield her from further pain.

Holding the cigarette in his hand, he pushed up from the couch. He walked back to the kitchen and dropped the butt into the trash. He quickly washed his hands, then left the kitchen and trotted up to the second floor.

The hallway was dark. He looked towards Phoebe's door and noticed a light on. Lifting his hand, he walked to her door, but let his hand drop to his side. Instead, he tapped one finger quietly against the door, then he turned away to walk to his room.

He heard the door opening behind him. He spun around and found Phoebe peeking out into the hallway.

"Is something wrong?" She stepped out of her room, the light glowing around her. Her long black hair hung in loose waves to her waist. She wore a thin cotton nightgown with floral designs along the bodice. In the right light, the gown probably did an admirable job of shielding her body. However, the bright light behind her streamed through the billowy fabric and illuminated the curves of her breasts. "Is Reggie okay?"

He heard Reggie's warning echo through his mind, but his feet moved of their own volition. "Everything's okay. She's gone to bed." As he approached Phoebe, his eyes trained on her dusky areolas that showed through the cloth. He ran his fingers through his hair and scratched at his scalp. "Did I wake you?"

She shook her head, then crossed her arms and leaned against the wall. "I was watching a movie on my laptop." She craned her neck and pointed at his head. "Would you like a massage?"

He would like much more than a massage. Stepping closer to her, he fluttered his lashes. "Excuse me?"

She smiled. "I give really good scalp massages." Her eyes scanned his face before her finger traced his jawline. "You look tense. Bad day at work?"

It was a simple touch. One that lasted only a second, but he found himself craving more. "Well, if you're offering, I'm accepting."

Phoebe smiled and extended her hand. She waited until he took hold, then she pulled him into her room and pointed at the bed. "Sit. I'll grab my essential oils." As she walked to her dresser, she called out over her shoulder, "Would you like lavender or peppermint?"

He pushed the door closed then sat on the end of the bed. "Which do you prefer?"

She returned holding two small bottles. She looked at them both before returning one. She came back with a bottle between her fingers, brandishing the label for him to read.

"Why lavender?" he asked.

She opened the bottle and poured a few drops of oil into her palm. "It's soothing. Helps you get into a restful state of mind so you have a good night's sleep." As she rubbed her hands together, she moved to stand in front of him.

He sighed as her fingers sunk into his hair. She kneaded his scalp, running the edges of her nails against his skin. "That's nice."

"I used to do this for my sister." She moved her hands to press her thumbs against his temples. "It was the highlight of her week. I'd massage her just like this for about twenty minutes, then she'd beg me for five more minutes."

Pressing his nose against her belly, he could totally understand why her sister loved this so much. Her fingers were soft, yet she applied the right amount of pressure. He inhaled deeply, expecting his nose to be filled with the scent of lavender. Instead, he smelled the faint aroma of her clean-scented soap.

He wrapped his hands around her waist and exhaled, his breath brushing against her skin. Her fingers halted, and he expected her hands to fall away. To his delight, she wrapped her arms around his head and pressed him closer to her body.

"What am I doing?" she asked.

Ash didn't think the question was directed at him, so he chose not to answer. He slid his hands down over her hips until his fingers grazed her bare skin. Then, without hesitation, he ran his hands up her thighs and underneath her gown.

He hesitated at her hips, waiting for her to pull away. After several heartbeats, he pushed the gown up her body until she gripped its edges and pulled it over her head. He wanted to murmur words of encouragement, but he feared if he did, she would break free from this spell.

She rocked against him. His lips traced circles around her belly button, and her hands slid down to grip his shoulders.

He pulled her down on top of him so that she straddled his lap. Her hands ran up the column of his neck and grabbed fistfuls of his hair, pulling his head back. She then lowered her head, smiled, and flicked her tongue over his bottom lip.

He responded by opening his mouth, enjoying her exploration. His hands cupped her ass and pulled her against his hardness. As she deepened her kiss, he fumbled at the buttons of his jeans, then hooked his thumbs around the waistband of her panties and pulled them down her body.

"Please," she said, reaching between them and taking his cock into her hand. With his lips free, he brushed kisses along her shoulders. "You needn't worry about any surprises, and I don’t need any promises."

He wanted to draw this moment out longer. He wasn't foolish enough to expect this would be a regular occurrence, even if he hoped it would be. But she seemed to have a different idea.

She settled herself over him. Pressing herself against his cock, she moved in circles, teasing him. He could only bite down on his lip as she lowered herself.

"Please," she repeated, rocking against him.

She was tight. Like a vice-grip around his rock-hard length. He could feel her muscles stretching to accommodate his girth, but she only increased her pace.

He kissed the valley between her breasts and flicked his tongue along the curve of her breast. He nuzzled her skin until his mouth grazed the hardened pebble of her nipple.

Throwing her head back, she squeezed her eyes shut as she rode him. She gasped for air, and he felt an intense ripple of pleasure knowing that he was making her feel such ecstasy.

"You are everything," he whispered.

Her eyes opened wide. Her frantic pace pushed him over the edge. He felt her clutch him, wringing every ounce of his semen into her body as her orgasm erupted.

He expected a heavy sigh. Or perhaps a small cry. Instead, she brought her hand to her mouth and sunk her teeth deep into her skin. She bit down so hard that he feared she'd broken skin. She remained like that for a second as he watched the softness fade from her body and be replaced with hardness.

Ash reached out to touch her, but she slid from his lap. She covered her mouth with her hands, shook her head, then knelt down to grab her discarded nightgown.

"Phoebe," he murmured, pushing off the bed and adjusting his jeans.

She bolted into her bathroom and slammed the door behind her. He started to follow her, but then forced himself to acknowledge that she wanted to be alone. He shot a final glance towards the bathroom, before turning to open her bedroom door and stepping out into the dark hallway.

In his vast experience, he'd always been the one to walk away, and now he was feeling oddly bereft. As he made his way back to his bedroom, he realized that Reggie had gotten it wrong. It wasn't Phoebe who risked having her heart broken.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The alarm beeped in the background and had been for the last eight minutes. Phoebe laid on her back, staring up at the ceiling, dreading the start of her day. She'd heard Ash leave the house nearly thirty minutes ago, but that didn't make her feel any better.

It wasn't just him that she dreaded seeing. She was also reluctant to encounter Reggie.

Groaning with annoyance, Phoebe pulled the pillow from beneath her head and pressed it against her face. She didn't bother to scream. She knew it wouldn't help her out of this mess. It just felt good to hide from the truth, even if only for a minute or two.

How was she going to last five years? She'd crossed the line, and she wasn't sure there was any going back. Every time they encountered each other, she would think about last night and how lovely it had felt to be with him.

Realizing she needed to get up and help Reggie with her morning medication regimen, Phoebe rolled onto her side and switched off the alarm clock. She tossed aside the covers, then sat on the edge of the bed. She swiped the back of her hand over her eyes, pushed to her feet, and stumbled to her bathroom.

Over the next twenty minutes, Phoebe rushed through her morning routine. She took a quick shower, swiftly scrubbing her body clean and washing her long, thick hair. Once finished, she coiled her hair on top of her head and escaped from the steamy room.

When she finished dressing, she trotted down the stairs and walked to the back hallway that led to Reggie's bedroom. She knocked on the door, waited until she heard Reggie's gravelly voice, then turned the knob.

Reggie sat in her wheelchair, clutching a cigarette between her fingers. An ashtray was perched on her lap, and a sad smile curved her lips.

"You're up late," she said, sticking the cigarette back into her mouth. She grabbed onto the wheels and propelled herself forward. "You look like you didn't get much sleep."

Phoebe lowered her gaze. Walking around Reggie, she grabbed the handles of the wheelchair. "No walker today?"

Reggie twisted her head so she could look at Phoebe. "I overdid it yesterday." She turned back around as Phoebe began to push her through the doorway of her bedroom. "I should have let you grab that electric cart."

"Well, we'll know for next time." Phoebe took her to the bathroom door. Reggie managed to open the door, then she pushed herself from the seat and crept into the bathroom.

"I'll be right here," Phoebe said.

Reggie waved her hand, closing the door in Phoebe's face. As per their usual routine, Phoebe lurked at the door, listening to Reggie brush her teeth, wash her face, and take her shower. When the shower ended, Phoebe pushed open the door and stepped inside.

They completed the rest of Reggie's routine in silence. Phoebe left the bathroom to grab the wheelchair and wait for Reggie. Once Reggie was settled in the seat, Phoebe pushed Reggie into the kitchen and placed her at her usual spot at the breakfast table.

"I'm sorry. I try to have your breakfast ready by the time you're through with the shower." Phoebe opened the fridge, and grabbed a carton of eggs and gallon of orange juice. She bumped the door closed and walked to Reggie. "The bright side? We've got juice."

"And bacon," Reggie said, holding out her glass for Phoebe to fill. "I'd like some bacon."

Phoebe poured her own serving of juice, then returned the juice to the fridge. She removed the turkey bacon and the pint of blackberries she'd picked up at the store. She wrapped the bacon in paper towels, then popped it into the microwave. As it cooked, she rinsed the blackberries. Setting them aside, she turned on the stove and quickly scrambled an egg.

"Are you going to mope all day?" asked Reggie.

Phoebe looked over to the table and found Reggie twisted in her chair. "I'm sorry--"

"For fuck's sakes, I don't want to hear another apology." Reggie pointed at the microwave. "Don't let my bacon burn."

Phoebe lurched the microwave open, grabbed the bacon, and placed the strips on the plate. She added a handful of blackberries and the scrambled egg, then carried the plate to the table.

Reggie took her breakfast from Phoebe's hand. As she lowered the plate to the table, she studied Phoebe's face. "Nothing for you?"

Phoebe lifted her glass of orange juice. "This is good enough."

Reggie released a sigh, then she grabbed a slice of bacon from her plate and held it out to Phoebe. "Eat."

"I don't usually eat breakfast."

"That's stupid." Reggie thrust the bacon towards Phoebe's mouth. "You need to eat. Now take this bacon." Her hand quivered, but she never lowered her arm. She continued to wait until Phoebe took the bacon from her hand and bit into it. "Good." Reggie grabbed her fork and cut into her eggs. "I don't want to hear about you skipping breakfast any longer."

"I've been doing it for years, Reggie. I usually drink a cup of coffee."

Reggie tossed a berry into her mouth and chewed. "If I'd known you weren't eating, I would have said something sooner. I always assumed you ate before you came to my room."

Phoebe smiled but said nothing. She finished the bacon, then wiped her hands on a napkin. "What would you like to do today?"

Reggie looked at Phoebe over the rim of her tortoise-shell glasses. "I figured you'd like to talk."

"About what?"

Reggie squinted an eye, then shook her head. She chuckled low in her throat. "I figured we could talk about that unused box of condoms."

Phoebe's mouth fell open. Reggie reached out, placed her finger beneath Phoebe's chin, and pushed it closed.

"Ain't gonna deny it?" Reggie asked.

Phoebe felt her pulse accelerate. She placed her palms against the cool surface of the table. "What do you think happened?"

Reggie laughed outright. "I know what happened."

"All right then." Phoebe searched Reggie's face, expecting to see either anger or disgust. To her surprise, she saw neither emotion. "It was a mistake."

"Was it?"

Phoebe nodded. "It won't happen again."

"Bullshit." Reggie looked at Phoebe from the corner of her eye as she picked up her glass of orange juice. "I see the way you look at him." She took a sip. "And I see the way he looks at you."

Phoebe lowered her eyes, not knowing how to respond. She'd been so wrapped up in what Reggie was saying that she hadn't noticed how much Reggie had eaten. She pointed down at the plate. "You ate it all."

"Yep." Reggie nodded.

"I don't think you've finished an entire plate of food before."

"You ain't never served bacon before." Reggie grabbed her napkin and wiped her mouth. "You keep serving bacon, and I'll keep eating it." She grimaced. "Even if it's some shitty ass turkey."

"Turkey bacon is better for you."

"Who says? Them damn quacks? They change their mind just as quickly as the wind blows." Reggie wheeled back from the table. She was about to turn away when she shot another glance in Phoebe's direction. "I want you to know that I don't think it's your fault. My nephew's always been free with his affections." She screwed up a corner of her mouth. "He's a handsome devil, and he knows how to work his charm. I've seen him run through a bunch of girlfriends, bolting away before they're able to sink their claws fully into him." She shook her head, then reached out to place a hand against Phoebe's cheek. "I like you. I didn't think I would, but I do. Don't let that man run over you, girl." She withdrew her hand, then took hold of her wheels and spun herself around. As she departed, she said over her shoulder, "You're a smart girl with a good heart. So don't let my dumbass nephew break it."

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Ash stood outside the kitchen, lingering in the hallway as he watched Phoebe prepare their dinner. He could hear the television blaring from Reggie's room, and he suspected his aunt was taking her late afternoon nap. He could have made himself known, calling out Phoebe's name or stepping into the brightly lit kitchen. But he didn't. He hung back and grappled with the complicated emotions surging through him.

He wanted her to look up and see him. He wanted the solemn look on her face to dissipate into a smile when she noticed him. He wanted to know that he unnerved her just as much as she unnerved him.

He waited, praying to see happiness blossom on her face. He promised himself if she simply showed that she wanted him, he would walk across the room and gather her into his arms.

When she finally looked up, her eyes were dark and heavy with her thoughts. He stepped into the light and dropped his hands to his sides. His eyes scanned her body, savoring every curve and every hollow.

Phoebe looked towards the microwave and picked up a cloth to wipe her hands. "You're home early."

Ash removed his service cap and placed it on the counter. He unbuttoned his top coat, then shook off the droplets of rain. "I had a dentist appointment, so I took the afternoon off." Folding his coat over his arm, he walked to where she stood and peered over her shoulder. "What are you making?" It was a simple question, and he knew his presence seemed nonthreatening. But his intentions were less innocent. He wanted to be near her. He wanted to feel the heat from her body, to smell her fresh clean scent.

She didn't seem bothered by his nearness as she was focused on her task. She trimmed the fat from a chicken thigh, then cut the meat into narrow strips before dropping it into a bowl. "I'm trying a new recipe. My sister and I loved going to this Creole restaurant back in Indy. She used to order the shrimp etouffee while I always ordered the jambalaya."

He laughed, knowing the recipe called for spicy Andouille sausage which Reggie hated. He slung his coat over one of the bar stools. "I hope you have a backup plan."

Up until this point, she hadn't made direct eye contact with him. Her eyes either focused on the food or glanced at some spot just beyond where he stood.

"I put aside one of the boneless chicken thighs for Reggie. I'm thinking of just grilling it and pairing it with a spinach salad." She pulled the canister of rice forward, opened it, and grabbed the measuring cup from inside. "Maybe she'd like some rice, too."

Phoebe made to turn away, but Ash grabbed onto her arm. She looked down at his hand, then lifted her eyes to meet his. He searched their depths, hoping to see a trace of welcome.

When she only smiled sadly and pulled her arm away, he stepped back. He hardened his features and steeled his emotions. He felt utterly foolish. So totally unlike himself. As she moved away, he tried to analyze why he reacted to her so differently than the women he typically dealt with.

"What do you have in mind for dessert?" he asked, leaning against the counter. Lowering his eyes, he stared intently at his feet. "I see we still don't have cookie dough."

She removed a can of diced tomatoes from the pantry, then walked to where he stood. A grin flashed across her face as she patted his belly. "Reggie thinks you're gaining too much weight."

He sucked in a breath as he felt her hand against his body. He knew the gesture was done dismissively, but it had the effect of pooling blood in his lower extremities. "Well, she's partially right. I did gain five pounds, mostly from stress, I think. But I've already dropped three, and I'm pretty sure I'll drop the rest in no time."

As if sensing his physical reaction, she withdrew her hand. She glanced over her shoulder towards the hallway that led to Reggie's room, then she moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. "We should probably talk about last night."

"We don't have to talk about it, if you don't want to." He stiffened and pushed away from the counter. Turning to the fridge, he opened a door and grabbed a water bottle from the shelf. He pulled the cap off, then took a sip. "It's no big deal."

"No big deal?" She placed a pan on the stove and turned on the burner. "You seem angry."

"I'm not angry." Yes. He was. But he was also disappointed. "I don't think we should make much more of it than what it was."

She watched him from the corner of her eye as she stirred the chicken in the frying pan. "And what was it?"

He envied her serenity. "Phoebe, we had sex. Nothing more. Nothing less."

She nodded. "Right."

"Right."

"You should know that there won't be any mishaps," she said, lowering her voice, "I'm on the pill."

It was like a kick to his gut. He hadn't thought about protection. Not before, during, or after. "Good looking out."

Phoebe made a fist and struck it against the countertop. The pace of her breathing had quickened, and she glared in his direction. For a few silent seconds, she simply stood there, looking at him. Then she shook her head, and reached over to turn off the burner.

"I've suddenly lost my appetite," she said, backing away from the oven. She turned her back on him, walking to the table where her purse sat. She grabbed it and placed the strap over her arm. She reached inside, pulled out her wallet, and counted her available cash. Satisfied, she turned to walk from the kitchen.

He followed behind her, which only served to hasten her departure. She had her hand on the front door when he called, "What about Reggie's dinner?"

"Fix it yourself." She opened the door just enough to slide through and pulled the door closed behind her. He heard her feet pound the steps seconds before the clunky engine of her car turned on.

"Well you handed that badly."

Ash spun on his heel and found Reggie standing a few feet away. She was leaning against her cane with a cigarette dangling from her mouth.

"New house rule." Ash approached his aunt, grabbed the cigarette from her lips, and snubbed it against his palm. "No more smoking in the house."

"Woo-wee," Reggie said, bobbing her head. "You ain't gotta take it out on me just because you've fucked up."

"I haven't fucked up."

"From where I am standing," she said, pounding her cane against the hardwood floor, "you most certainly have." She grabbed onto his arm and leaned her weight against him. "Help me to the couch."

Ash heard the exhaustion in Reggie's voice, and he reacted immediately. His aunt rarely asked for help, but when she did, it usually meant she was in a truly bad way. He draped his arm around her shoulders and guided her to the couch.

"I'm going to give that physical therapist a call in the morning," he said. "I think it's time she made some home visits."

"I don't need no more therapy. They had me working with a physical therapist at the hospital before they discharged me." Settling on the couch, she brushed his words aside. "You brought in Phoebe to help me, and she does just fine."

He sat down beside her and placed his arm on the back of the couch. He shifted to face her. "I'm sure Phoebe's doing all she can, but she's not a physical therapist."

He lifted his aunt's hand, feeling the faint throb of her pulse. Reggie had always been his rock, even when his parents were alive. His father was too worried about appearances to let him and his sisters run free; their mother had been so consumed with trying to meet her own expectations that she'd frequently ignored her kids. It was Reggie who'd listened to his dreams and fostered his imagination.

It rocked him to his core, seeing how fragile she was. "I want you back to full strength, then we get rid of this thing." He pointed at the cane she clutched between her hands.

A sad smile curved her lips. She placed her hand on his knee and squeezed. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, but you and I both know that's not gonna happen." She lifted the cane and settled it across her lap. "I'm old, Ashley. I ain't gonna bounce back from this, not like you think. Not like I wish. This is my new normal, and I guess I better just accept it because I could be dead."

"Reg," he murmured. Tears gathered in his eyes as he thought of a world without his Aunt Reggie.

She wiped a tear from his face, then slapped her palm against his cheek. "No tears for me. Like I said, I ain't dead." She pulled her hand away, and nibbled on her bottom lip. "But I've been thinkin' since you ain't been, and I think you should give this marriage thing a real go."

In an instant, the tears dried up. His feelings towards Phoebe were complicated, but he was positive of one thing--whatever they felt for each other was only temporary. It would burn itself out just like every other relationship he'd ever had.

Wouldn't it?

Taking a moment to gather his emotions, Ash glanced over his shoulder and pointed back towards the kitchen. "So you want grilled chicken or would you like some pizza? Because I've been craving pizza."

"Don't you change the subject."

"It's not a subject I want to discuss at the moment." He pushed up from the couch, then extended his hand. When she glared at it, he knelt down, wrapped his arm under hers, and pulled her to her feet. "Pizza or chicken?"

"You know she wants me to eat healthy."

"What's wrong with pizza?" He guided her into the kitchen and helped her take a seat at the table. He then walked to the fridge and opened the freezer drawer. "The crust is made from grains. There's tomatoes. Cheese and meat. If you ask me, it's a total and complete meal."

"Okay." Reggie laughed. "Let's have pizza."

He flashed her a grin as he pulled a pizza from the freezer. "Excellent choice."

"With a nice big glass of whiskey."

"Don't push it, old one."

They exchanged amused glances.

"Ashley," Reggie said, folding her hands in front of her, "people get you wrong. They think you're just pretty with no substance."

He removed the packaging and tossed it into the trash. "But they're wrong."

"Well. No. Not entirely."

"Thanks, Reg."

She cackled. "Hear me out. I'm spittin' wisdom here." She pointed towards her heart. "Your sisters think you're the strong one. When your parents died, they looked up to you, and you bore that responsibility. At times, I felt more like the nanny while I watched you parent them girls. Your friends don't know that about you. They just see your flashiness and think you ain't got no heart. But I know better."

Ash grabbed a couple of waters from the fridge and joined Reggie at the table. He untwisted the cap to her bottle, then slid it across the table. Watching as she sipped at the liquid, he slapped his own bottle between his hands and thought about Reggie's words.

He knew she was winding herself up for some big moral lesson. And he didn't want to deprive her of the pleasure, but he also knew she was dragging this out. "The pizza's only got a few more minutes to cook. Can we cut to the end?"

Her hand dropped to the table and water sputtered from the bottle's opening. "Fine, you little asshat. I think she'll be good for you."

"Really?" He smiled. "Wasn't it just yesterday you were warning me away?"

"That was before you screwed her." She squinted an eye. "Literally and biblically."

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Over the next week, the small household settled into a routine. Ash would wake up early in the morning, make his own breakfast, then rush out of the house and spend most of the day at work. Phoebe spent many hours transporting Reggie to appointments or working on improving Reggie's endurance. At night, Phoebe and Reggie would eat their dinner, and Ash would come home sometime after they'd gone to bed and eat his own supper.

Thus, it surprised Phoebe when Ash entered the kitchen around 10:00 am dressed in a checkered black shirt, gray t-shirt, and black cargo-style khakis. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing fine, dark hairs on his forearms. His dark brown hair, with its bronze highlights, was swept away from his brow. His amber eyes sparkled with mischief as he walked to the fridge, opened the doors, and began to shuffle items around.

Phoebe came to stand behind him, curious to see what he was looking for. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Nope," he said, pushing aside a carton of eggs. He twisted his body, extending his arm to the farthest corner, then smiled and withdrew his arm. He held a roll of double chocolate chip cookie dough. "I'm making cookies."

She watched as he pulled a baking sheet from the cabinet and removed a knife from the drawer. As she lurked near the sink, he sliced individual cookies from the roll and placed them on the sheet.

"Why aren't you at work?" she asked.

"I requested the day off after working seven straight days." There was a glob of cookie dough on his thumb. Sticking his thumb into his mouth, he sucked the dough off then said, "Reggie's physical therapist will be here in fifteen minutes."

That was a surprise to Phoebe. She wiped her hands against the back of her leggings, then glanced around the kitchen. "I thought he wasn't coming until Friday."

Ash shrugged. "I rescheduled the appointment for today."

"Why?" What she really wanted to know was why he didn't tell her.

He opened the oven door and pushed the cookie sheet inside. He set the timer, then grabbed the coffee pot and filled it with water. "Reggie mentioned that she didn't want a male physical therapist. I thought it a bit strange, considering she usually loves it when a younger man dotes on her." He poured the water into the coffeemaker and added freshly ground coffee. Finished with his work, he turned around and rested his hip against the counter. "So I asked for a female therapist, and they told me she wasn't available on Fridays. I asked for the next available appointment, and they told me today."

"When did you talk to them?"

"On Monday."

She bit the inside of her cheek. Judging from his smug expression, he knew he was annoying her. "Today's Wednesday. You could have told me that you'd changed the appointment."

He shrugged.

"Where's Reggie?"

He rested his hands against the edge of the counter and crossed his ankles. "She's watching television in her room. She's already showered and dressed, right?"

"Yes," she said, grabbing the empty cookie package and tossing it into the trash. "That's the first thing we do in the morning."

She heard a car pull into the driveway. Quirking her brow, she walked past Ash and went to the front door. She peered through the small panel window, waiting for the therapist to reach the door. Then Phoebe grabbed the handle, pulled the door wide, and stepped aside. "Please come in."

The therapist hovered in the doorway, looking at Phoebe with curiosity. Her eyes scanned the living room before she pulled a satchel from her shoulder and entered the room. "Are you Reggie?"

"No. I'm Phoebe." Phoebe extended her hand. The therapist looked down at her hand, then pulled her gaze back to Phoebe's face. After a moment, she grabbed Phoebe's hand and shook it. "I'm Leslie Keen. I'm from South Puget Sound Physical Therapy."

"It's nice to meet you, Leslie." With a smile, Phoebe pushed the door closed. She heard the confusion in Leslie's voice, and she wondered if Leslie thought she'd gotten the name of her patient wrong. "Reggie's in her bedroom." She motioned for Leslie to sit down, then she pointed towards Reggie's room. "Do we need to fill out any paperwork? Maybe we could do that first, or would you like to get started with the session?"

Leslie's green eyes narrowed as she looked at the staircase. "Is Reggie's room upstairs?"

Phoebe shook her head. "No. Ash converted his office into a bedroom. It's here on the first floor."

An eager smile bloomed on Leslie's face. She bounced on her feet as she continued to look around the house. "I recognize the name, Ash. He's Reggie's nephew, right? I spoke with him over the telephone."

"And I'm right here." Ash emerged from the kitchen, carrying a tray with the freshly baked cookies and three mugs of coffee. His amber eyes homed in on Leslie, and it was at that moment that Phoebe wondered if this was more than a therapy session.

She pointed from Leslie to Ash. "Have you two met?"

Ash set the tray down, then extended his hand. "No. We just talked over the phone."

"I'm Leslie Keen." Leslie tossed her blond ponytail over her shoulder and eagerly took his hand. He pointed towards the couch, and she sat down on the center cushion while he sat down to the right of her.

There was enough room on the couch for three people, but it seemed awkward for Phoebe to join them. Instead, she walked to the armchair and sat down, never taking her eyes away from the pretty duo on the couch.

"Would you like some coffee?" Ash asked Leslie, lifting a mug from the tray.

Leslie scrunched up her shoulders. "I usually don't drink coffee." She looked in Phoebe's direction for the briefest moment. "I think we all drink too much coffee. I prefer green or white tea." In spite of her words, she took the mug from Ash's hand. A slight blush darkened her cheeks when her fingers grazed his hand. "But it's all about moderation, right?"

There was a pleased expression on Ash's face as he rubbed his hands against his thighs.

"I was just asking Leslie if we needed to complete the paperwork first," Phoebe said as she glared at the woman. Phoebe knew she should fetch Reggie from her room, but she was too afraid to leave these two alone. She also knew her fear was irrational; even though she and Ash were married, there was no expectation that they had to be faithful to each other. In fact, she'd told herself that she wanted him to see other people. This was only a temporary arrangement, after all.

Leslie pulled her satchel onto her lap, then she tossed open the flap. She pulled out a promotional folder, opened it, and removed a stapled packet. "Typically, I like to meet first with the client and talk about our goals and expectations." She handed the packet to Ash. "But I also like to meet with the family and get their views on the type of care Reggie is currently receiving and what goals you'd like her to reach." Then she turned in Phoebe's direction, the curiosity returning to her eyes. "I know Ash is Reggie's nephew," she said as she touched the small section of cushion that separated her from Ash, "but I don't think I got how you're related."

"I'm Reggie's caregiver."

"She's my wife."

They had spoken at the same time. Phoebe wiggled in her seat and shoved her hands between her thighs. Through her lashes, she peeked at Ash and found his dimples out in full force.

Leslie, on the other hand, looked visibly chilled. She reached to the side and grabbed her bag, using that movement to put some distance between herself and Ash. She then glanced at her watch, and hopped from the couch. "Actually, I should probably go meet Reggie. Time's flying."

Phoebe caught the laughter on Ash's face. She stood and waited for Leslie to walk past her, then she stomped on Ash's foot. "Behave."

The grin faded from his face, but the humor lingered in his eyes. He left the couch, following close behind Phoebe. Leslie walked to Reggie's door and knocked.

There was a thumping sound as Reggie walked to the door. The small smile on her face faded away when she saw Leslie standing there.

"Who in the hell are you?"

"Reggie," Ash warned.

Leslie shook her head, sending a silent message to Ash that she could handle it. "I'm Leslie. Your new physical therapist. I'm here to hel--"

Reggie slammed the door shut.

"I'm sorry about that," Phoebe muttered, knocking on Reggie's door. She looked directly into Ash's eyes, lifted her brows, and hitched her head back towards the living room. "Why don't you do that paperwork, and I'll talk to Reggie."

Leslie pressed up beside Phoebe. She placed her hand against the door. Judging from the wild look in her eyes, she didn't want to be left alone with Ash. "How about I talk to Reggie alone? It's not uncommon for patients to show some resistance."

"Okay," Ash said, grabbing Phoebe's hand. He pulled her away from the door and threw a wave over his shoulder. "We'll be right out here when you finish."

Phoebe squeezed his hand until he flinched and pulled away. Flashing her an ornery grin, he retreated into the living room as she considered whether or not to toss the cookies in his face.

CHAPTER TWENTY

The look Phoebe shot him was flaming. Damn near singed his eyebrows. He beckoned to her and sat down on the couch, pulling her down onto his lap.

She tried to leave, but he wrapped his arms around her and chuckled when she pinched his arm. After a few moments, she released a heavy sigh, then dropped her head against his shoulder. He nestled his chin against the black knot of her hair and inhaled her fresh scent.

"This is encouraging," Phoebe murmured against his chest.

He thought so, too. "I've been thinking about this all morning." He kissed the top of her head and tightened his hold. "We should probably do this more often."

Phoebe tilted her head, searching his face. "How many therapy sessions does Reggie's insurance allow?"

He shook his head. "I'm not sure. Twelve or thirteen, I think."

Holding her like this caused his insides to churn. Her warm breath caressed his skin. Her bottom wiggled against his lap as she pulled her long legs up onto the couch.

"I'm encouraged," she murmured, "but I'm also worried."

If he was honest with himself, he felt a bit apprehensive too. He knew things would eventually work out between them. There was entirely too much chemistry for them to deny it. His hand wandered the length of her back. She tensed for a moment, but she didn't pull away. Encouraged, he slid his hand under her shirt and rested his hand against her ribcage.

She arched a brow at him. "You're not the least bit worried about Reggie?"

His hand stilled in its exploration as his mind replayed their conversation. He'd been thinking their conversation was about them and how they both shared some level of encouragement. But looking at her puzzled face, he realized she'd been talking about Reggie and the physical therapist. There hadn't been any explosions from the bedroom, no scene involving Leslie sprinting from the house screaming that she would never return.

It felt like a bucket of water had splashed across his face, and he was at risk of drowning. He grunted, dropped his arms from Phoebe, and scooted out from under her.

Her lips twisted in a snarl, Phoebe plopped onto the cushion beside him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He leaned forward and plucked two cookies from the plate. He stuck one in his mouth, then held the other out to her. When she shook her head, he shrugged and held onto it. "I wanted to be ready to spring into action if things changed with Reggie."

"Maybe it'll work out between them." Phoebe tucked her arm through his, and he reared back in surprise. She didn't seem to notice his reaction because she once again rested her head against his shoulder. "I think Reggie realizes she's going to need help if she wants to improve."

"She's convinced she's going to rely on that cane for the rest of her life." He'd finished the first cookie and now he considered whether his weight could handle a second one or not. He worked out on a daily basis, usually burning more calories than he consumed. But he was aware he was getting older, and there had been a lot of changes in his life recently. He could probably handle a second one, but he thought better of it. Smiling with triumph, he tossed the second cookie back onto the plate.

Phoebe gaped at him, approval lighting her eyes. "Look at you."

He twisted his lips. "You act like I lack self-control."

She shrugged a shoulder.

"I'll have you know if I lacked self-control, you'd be beneath me, screaming out my name." When her eyes narrowed, he stifled a grin. He didn't know why he'd said it. Pure orneriness he guessed. "But I'm the master of my body. And if you give me enough time, I'll master yours."

Phoebe tucked her legs beneath her. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips. "Leslie's kinda cute."

"What?" His head twisted in her direction. "You're thinking threesome? I'm totally down with that." The bark of laughter that erupted from her throat startled him. He leapt in his seat, then clutched at his heart. "I thought the 'she's kinda cute' was universal for 'we could all totally get it on'."

"One month and I'm already thinking of ways to punish you," she said.

"Yeah? I've never tried that BDSM shit, but I think I could like it." Phoebe bit down on her lip and pointed a finger in warning. He twisted his mouth and tried to follow the direction of her thoughts. "It's been one month since we've met. Roughly one week since I last had sex."

She counted on her fingers, staring at the plate of cookies. He nudged her side with his elbow.

"That's right, Phoebe. It's been a week since we had sex."

She pointed back towards Reggie's room. "Leslie seems your type."

He waved his hands in the air. "There you go again, making me think we're talking about a threesome."

"Look at me." The humor faded from her face. She gripped his chin in her hand and forced him to look at her. "Why did you tell her that I was your wife?"

He lifted his left hand and pointed at his wedding band. "I figured this would be a dead giveaway, especially since it matches the one on your finger."

"Oh." She dropped her hand. "You know, maybe we shouldn't wear them all the time. Just when we have to be around your coworkers and stuff."

The idea seemed simple enough. Rational. It made sense to him. But, it also bothered him. "We're married for the next five years. I'm not going to spend that time yanking this thing off and on." He shrugged. "Hell. I might lose it."

She dropped her head, and he could only assume she was looking at her own ring. Her fingers twisted at the band while she mumbled to herself.

"What was that?" He nudged her again. "I didn't catch what you said."

She jerked her head up and narrowed her eyes. "I said I wouldn't want to lose your grandmother's ring."

"That would be a tragedy."

"A terrible one."

"So about that threesome, I think she'd totally be open to it."

Phoebe buried her face in her hands. "How am I going to live with you these next five years?"

"Easily, I hope."

She twisted to rest her elbow against the back of the couch. Her chin rested against her hand. "Do you mind if I ask, how long was your longest relationship?"

"Not counting this marriage?" He knew he was being silly, but he liked seeing the twinkle in her eye. It was a lovely change from the usual solemnness that lurked there. "Can I count friendships?"

"You know what I mean."

He sighed, reached out, and placed his hand on her knee. She didn't buck him away, so he smiled and slid his hand further up her thigh. She eventually clasped his hand, holding it halfway between her knee and hip.

"Just shy of a year, I think." He thought about it for a moment longer, then nodded. "Yeah. About eleven months. Things went south when I met her parents. I wasn't opposed to meeting them, mind you. But then her mother started prattling on and on about family traditions and expectations. The next thing I know, she was talking about reserving a venue and choosing a wedding cake."

"Scared you shitless, huh?"

"Sure did." He grinned. "What about you?"

She squeezed her eyes shut and grimaced. "I knew you were going to ask me that. Technically, I don't think I've ever had a relationship. I mean, not like one where you formally come to agreement that you're together."

"Seriously?" He couldn't fathom it.

Her lips curved. "I was dating someone a few years back that I thought had long-term potential. He was studying to be a pharmacist, working as a paramedic at night."

"What happened? Why didn't it work out?"

"My sister got sick. My brother-in-law asked me to help take care of her, so I ended the relationship."

"Why?" He saw a tightness around her mouth and he wondered if it signaled a hint of resentment. "That seems a bit drastic."

"I was living in East Chicago at that time. I had to quit my job and relocate to Indianapolis. We'd only gone out on a handful of dates, so I didn't think it was fair to expect him to want a long-distance relationship."

"And how far is East Chicago to Indianapolis?"

She twisted her lips. "Two hours."

"You consider that a long-distance relationship?" He chuckled. "Just imagine when I'm deployed. I'll be halfway around the world." He'd always made a clean break of any relationship when he deployed. This would be the first time he'd have someone--other than his sisters and Reggie--waiting for him to return. He smiled as he imagined a joyous Phoebe launching herself into his arms.

But she didn't seem to enjoy the romance of it all. A stillness came over her. She covered his hand with hers, and the solemnness returned to her eyes.

Just before she could say something, they heard Reggie's door burst open.

"Don't worry, Miss Wilson," Leslie said as she came rushing from the room, clutching her satchel against her chest, "I won't be returning."

"Good!" Reggie's door slammed shut.

Phoebe bolted from the couch, reaching out to Leslie. "Is everything okay?"

"Your aunt is a very difficult person to work with." Leslie grabbed the doorknob and opened the door. "I think it best if she found another therapist." She pulled the door closed behind her, and Ash heard her trotting from the steps.

Ash started to laugh when he heard her peel out of the driveway. "I guess that puts an end to the threesome."

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Phoebe rested her forehead against the cool wood of Ash's door. He was worming his way into her affections, and he'd left her shaken when he mentioned being deployed. After several sleepless hours imagining a return to her lonely life, she'd finally mustered up the courage to approach him. And now his bedroom light was extinguished and faint snoring sounds came from inside.

She was reluctant to turn around. Her decision was made, and she wanted to see this through. She inhaled deeply, letting the air fill her lungs and diaphragm before she exhaled through her nose. She grasped the doorknob and twisted it slowly to see if the door was locked. When she found it wasn't, she pushed softly on the door and stepped into his room.

"What am I doing?" she asked herself for the hundredth time. She rubbed her sweaty palms against her cotton nightgown while she crept softly towards his bed, hoping not to startle him awake.

Moving slowly and deliberately, she slid onto the bed, lifted the covers, and pulled them over her body. His head rested on his pillow, facing her. Waves of dark hair fell over his brow, making him seem boyish and nonthreatening. She moved closer to him until she was nearly on his pillow, then she reached out, intending to trace the curve of his Cupid's bow.

"This is kinda creepy, Phoebe."

She surged towards him and landed on his chest, pushing him onto his back. "Good. You're awake."

He grunted, then slapped his hand over his eyes. "I wasn't awake until you crept into my room, mumbling like a loon." He peeked through his fingers. "Why are you in my bed?"

She didn't answer his question. She shifted to settle her head in the crook of his arm, then she pulled his arm over her body. "Tomorrow I'm going to teach you how to make cookies from scratch." She inched closer to him, threading her legs through his. "If you're up to it, I'm even willing to make some brownies."

His chest rose and fell with each breath. She smiled at him, knowing he wanted to fall back asleep, but he was curious to know what had brought her to his room at this time of night. Something about Ash made her want to act impulsively. To make him feel as unsure of himself as she felt most of the time when she was around him.

"What kind of cookies are we talking about?" he asked.

She was so close to him that she could feel his heart beating. Feeling utterly adventurous, she let her hand explore the muscles of his chest, enjoying the feel of his coarse hair beneath her palm. "My personal preference is for snicker-doodles, but I'm open to just about anything."

"I'm satisfied with chocolate chip cookies." He rested his chin against the top of her head. "As much as I love talking about cookies, I know you're just trying to deflect from my original question. Why are you in my bed in the middle of the night?"

Phoebe twisted and yanked at the covers. He screeched, then clutched at the sheet.

"Don't play coy with me, Ashley." She twisted the sheet between her fingers, trying to pry it from his grasp. "You stood, in the middle of this very room, completely naked before my eyes."

Suddenly he bolted from his pillow and relinquished his hold on the sheet. She fell back onto the mattress, but before she could squirm back into a sitting position, he pounced on top of her.

"You're naked, aren't you?" She already knew the answer to her question. She felt the sinewy cords of his muscles pressed against the cloth of her gown. His hard cock touched her thigh.

"Don't act surprised." He pulled away and sank back onto his pillow. He grabbed the sheet and blanket, then settled them around his body. He punched his pillow and turned over on his side, his back to her. "By the way, you're still deflecting. How about you go back to your room, think about your answer, then catch up with me in the morning."

She tucked her legs beneath her and listened as his breathing slowed. She could tell that he'd drifted back to sleep, and she was hesitant to wake him again. Her playfulness had evaporated, so she swung her legs over the side of the mattress and stood. She lowered her head and quickly scampered back into her own room. She pushed the door closed, then collapsed against it as she willed her heartbeat to slow.

After a few moments, she pushed away from the door and walked to the closet where she kept her sister's hat collection. She sorted through them until she found the ugly green knit hat that her sister had loved. She buried her face deep in it, then clutched it to her body. Usually, whenever she felt alone, the hat helped her feel more connected with her sister. Because the simple truth--the reason behind her impromptu visit--was that she was lonely.

She'd woken from a dream in which she was sitting at a table, eating breakfast with her sister. They were laughing and joking, swapping stories from Phoebe's youth. But then, Andrea's features twisted as if time had elapsed, and suddenly Phoebe was looking at Reggie. She'd bolted awake with tears flowing from her eyes.

For several moments, she'd sat on her bed, feeling disoriented as she remembered where she was. The reality hit her, quite unexpectedly, that her sister was gone, and instead of allowing herself to grieve, she'd jumped into a complicated situation.

When the isolation threatened to totally overwhelm her, Phoebe had sought out Ash. She hadn't really thought about sex.

That wasn't quite true. She'd thought about sex and had been open to it, but it wasn't the primary reason why she'd sneaked into his room. She simply wanted to feel his warmth pressed against her. To hear a heartbeat instead of silence.

Phoebe felt the pressure build behind her eyes. She sniffed loudly, then rubbed her nose against the inside of her wrist. She struggled to control her emotions, but she broke down into sobs.

She swore she'd only been crying for a minute when her bedroom door burst open and Ash rushed into the room. He said nothing as he climbed onto her bed, tucked himself beneath her covers, and gathered her into his arms. The knit hat brushed against his chin, and he grabbed it from her and tossed it over the side of the bed.

"You don't need that hideous thing."

Snorting, she knew her tears soaked his skin. "I'm sorry."

"Zip it," he said, wiggling deeper into the mattress. Phoebe opened her mouth to speak, but he shushed her back into silence. "I have four more hours before my alarm clock goes off. As charming as you are, I simply want to sleep. Okay?"

She nodded against his chest. "Okay."

Phoebe snuggled against him, enjoying the warmth that seeped from his skin into hers. Grateful for his presence, she began brushing kisses along his jaw.

"Quit it," he murmured.

"I'm sorry."

"Shut up." He softened the words by kissing her forehead.

She smiled, burying her face. "Thank you."

"They had better be some damn good cookies." He opened an eye and peered through his lashes. "And don't think for one minute that your tears persuaded me one way or another."

"Of course not."

"Why are you still talking?"

She laughed. "Because you're talking to me."

"I'm only talking to you because you're talking to me." He snorted and squeezed her side. "If you keep talking, I'm going to think you don't want to sleep."

"Maybe I don't."

"Let me think about this." Jerking up onto his elbow, he gave her a scrutinizing look through heavy-lidded eyes. "Nope. Maybe tomorrow." And with that he turned on his side and burrowed beneath the covers.

Phoebe wasn't disappointed by the rejection. She kissed his shoulder, then wrapped her arm around his stomach and rested her head against his. Her eyes drifted closed as he took her hand into his and placed it against his heart.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

"Okay," Phoebe said, staring deeply into his eyes. "This may be the most important question I ever ask you."

Last night had been a turning point for them. One that Ash knew he would never fully recover from. He'd made many women cry, and he'd even managed to comfort a couple of them--well, his sisters--when he'd been able to get them within arm's reach. But he'd never felt so completely stripped raw by another person's emotions before. Phoebe had clung to him the entire night, and he'd enjoyed sharing the small, cramped bed with her--even though they hadn't had sex.

Now the sadness was gone from her eyes. In its place was sheer determination and stubbornness. Ash stiffened his back, bracing his arm against the counter. He returned her serious stare and felt drawn into the pools of her dark eyes. "I think I know what you're going to ask me," he said. "It's about time we had this discussion."

Phoebe shook out her long black hair and swiftly plaited it into a long braid. She then walked to the sink where she briskly washed her hands. Grabbing the towel from the stove, she dried her hands before she once again looked directly into his eyes.

Ash puckered his lips and placed his hand on top of hers. "I know this could potentially be a deal breaker. I can practically feel the disappointment already filling the air."

She nodded. "Trust me. I'm well aware." She inhaled deeply and flicked her tongue out to moisten her lips. "All right, Ash." Her nostrils flared as she steadied herself for the difficult conversation.

"Crispy, chewy, or cakey?" she asked.

"Crispy, of course." Ash flinched. He was preparing himself, but he wasn't sure if he was ready to hear her answer.

"Ugh," she grunted, smacking her palm against the counter. "Cakey!"

"Cookies should be crispy." Ash thought she'd lost her usually sensible mind. "If I wanted something chewy, then I'd eat candy. If I wanted something cakey, then I'd eat cake."

Phoebe unwrapped two sticks of butter and tossed them into the mixing bowl. She then added a cup of brown sugar. "If you want a thinner and crispier cookie, then you have to add more butter and sugar."

"And that's enough butter?"

"Nope." She grabbed the electric mixer and hoisted it in the air. "Okay. Now you're gonna beat this until it gets fluffy."

"Are you sure about this? Shouldn't we add the chocolate chips?"

"We add them last." She glanced over her shoulder at the oven. "Did you turn it on?"

"Of course I did." He pushed up the long sleeves of his thermal shirt, then he took the electric mixer from her. "I didn't know I had this."

"You didn't. I had to run out and buy it today." She pointed back towards the stove. "I also bought a blender and electric can opener."

He switched on the mixer, stuck it in the bowl, and turned on the switch. "Electric can openers are for the lazy."

"Then I guess I'm lazy." She snapped her fingers, then pointed at the butter mixture. "Are you paying attention?"

"Yeah. You said that I need to beat this until it's fluffy. It doesn't look fluffy." He tilted the bowl in her direction. "It looks grainy."

Grabbing onto the mixer, she pried it from his hands. "That's good enough for now. Next we'll add the eggs and vanilla." She cocked her head in the direction of two smaller bowls. "Go ahead and pour them into the bowl. You'll mix that for a minute or so, then you'll add the flour and salt."

He followed her directions, adding the eggs and vanilla then the flour and salt. After a few minutes, she handed him the bag of chocolate chips. He grinned boyishly before opening the bag and dumping the contents into the bowl.

"How adventurous do you feel?" she asked, standing beside him and watching his progress. When she seemed displeased with his mixing skills, she removed the spatula from his hands and began to fold the dough. "I have some coconut and walnuts we can add."

He thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. "I'd like this first batch to be uncomplicated."

"First batch, huh?"

He snorted and tossed his head. "You realize you've just created a cookie-making monster, right?"

As she laughed, she smacked the spatula against the rim of the bowl. "Tomorrow I'll show you how to make meatloaf."

"Pass."

"What's wrong with meatloaf?" She held the spatula in one hand as she removed a bit of dough with her finger. She was about to pop that finger into her mouth when she changed course and held her finger out to him. "Try it."

"Are your hands clean?"

She pulled her hand away. Glaring at him from the corner of her eye, she stuck the dough into her mouth. "Now they aren't."

"That is gross. Unsanitary." With a thrust of his hip, he bumped her and sent her stumbling a few steps. "Please don't touch my cookies."

"Half of those cookies are mine."

"Like hell." He snatched the bowl from the counter and held it tightly against his chest. "You said you'd show me how to make my own cookies. You said nothing about us sharing them."

She made to grab the bowl from him, but he bolted around the kitchen island, protecting his precious bundle. "This is not open for negotiation, Phoebe."

"Don't you be greedy, Ashley Cooper."

Phoebe tried to reach for the bowl, but he held it high above his head. "I'm greedy. Very greedy."

"Seriously. Give me the bowl."

His response was to cover her face with his palm. "Thanks, Phoebe, I got it from here."

She stood still with his hand pressed against her face. He could feel her laughter reverberating through his hand. He felt like the funniest man in the world. Then, to his surprise, she stuck her tongue out and licked his palm.

"You have officially crossed the line, madam." He dropped the bowl onto the counter, walked to the sink, and scrubbed his hands clean.

She hovered near the kitchen island with a pleased smile on her face. "You only have yourself to blame." She pulled the cookie sheet in front of her, then removed a tablespoon from the utensil drawer.

"Big or small?" she asked.

His back was turned towards her as he dried his hands. He peered over his shoulder and saw that she was scooping dough into the spoon. "I like them big, just like my willy."

"You have a seriously overinflated opinion of yourself."

He rushed against her, pressing his overinflated self against her back. "A lesser man would be offended by such nonsense."

Phoebe sighed, lifted the cookie sheet from the counter, and opened the oven door. She shoved the sheet inside, then set the alarm. "Are you like this with all your women?"

He shook his head. "No. Just my wife."

"How unfortunate."

"Ain't it."

Happiness radiated from her, making him feel like he'd conquered the impossible. The solemnness that usually lurked around her had been banished, perhaps not forever, but hopefully for the rest of the night. While his cookies baked in the oven, he approached his wife and wrapped his hands around her waist, pulling her closer.

"I have an idea," he murmured, liking the feel of her tucked against him. "I'll trade you a cookie for a kiss."

Tilting her head, she revealed a crooked smile. "I thought you said this wasn't open to negotiation."

"I was playing hard to get."

She grinned. "Heaven forbid I get the impression that your affections can be acquired so easily."

Ash smiled when she flicked her finger against the small indentation in his chin. When she leaned forward and pressed her body against his, he felt the tiny pebbles of her erect nipples. Her lush mouth looked dewy, and he felt lightheaded, as if every ounce of air had been sucked from his body.

It began with a soft caress. Her lips skimmed his mouth for the briefest moment. Before he could object, she drew his bottom lip between her pretty white teeth, then pressed her lips fully against his.

He moved to deepen the kiss. But her hands fell away from his shoulders, and he felt the loss of her lips. He thought she was teasing him, but then she pulled out of his arms and yanked open the oven door.

Now that his senses were freed from her allure, his nostrils filled with the scent of burnt cookies. He moaned with disappointment when she tossed the sheet onto the stove. All the cookies were burnt.

Phoebe grabbed a spatula and shoved it beneath a cookie. She then twisted and held the cookie beneath his nose. A teasing smile hovered on her mouth.

"You said you like them crispy." She winked at him. "Are these crispy enough?"

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Phoebe was scrubbing the remnants of the burnt cookies from the cookie sheet when she heard a knock at the front door. The sheet pan in her hands was the unfortunate victim of her frustration. After they'd burned the cookies, Ash had received a phone call and he'd quickly bolted the room with an angry look in his eyes. She'd been too stunned by his abrupt shift in mood to ask what was wrong. Ash had spent hours holed up in his room before leaving the house to do some errand, while Reggie simply rolled her eyes and snorted something about a Jack.

The knocks on the door pounded again. Phoebe glanced at Reggie, who sat at the breakfast table sipping her morning coffee. Judging from the look on Reggie's face, she wasn't moving from her spot.

"Are you expecting anyone?" Phoebe asked, pulling the gloves from her hands. She tossed them into the sink, then brushed her hands over her baggy sweatpants. "Don't get up. I'll get it."

Reggie rested her forearm against the table and lifted her coffee mug in a salute. "I never doubted you for a second."

Walking from the kitchen, Phoebe wondered if being a smartass was a hereditary trait. The knocking became more incessant, which prompted Phoebe to trot to the door. She pulled it open and saw that it was Ash, gripping a large box between his hands.

"About damn time someone opened the door." He kicked his foot against the screen door. "Open up."

Phoebe darted out onto the porch and held the door back until Ash walked inside. As she closed the door behind them, he dropped the box onto the floor and then collapsed onto the couch. "You should have called and mentioned you were bringing something home. I would have had the door propped open for you."

He narrowed an eye, then puckered his lips. "And ruin the surprise?"

She stood over the box with her hands on her hips. She tapped a foot against the box. "Who's it for?"

"Nosy, aren't we?"

She knelt down, searching for a clue. There was no writing on the box. "Is it a TV?"

"When was the last time you saw a TV arrive in a square box?"

She cocked her head to the side, acknowledging his point. Listening closely, she placed her hands on the sides of the box and rocked it from side to side. "Is it fragile?"

Ash's cap smacked against her stomach. She looked up and found his face screwed into a frown.

"What's with all the questions?" He grabbed onto his coat, then pulled it from his shoulders. He kicked off his shoes, then wiggled his toes. "Is dinner ready?"

"Almost." She couldn't take her eyes off the box. She needed to know what was inside. Simply because she was curious. "What is it?"

He groaned deep in his throat, then pushed off the couch and walked to where she stood. He crouched down and removed the keys from his pocket. Pulling out a utility knife, he sliced the tape then tossed open the flaps.

"Come look," he said, beckoning her closer.

Whatever the surprise was, it was buried beneath packing peanuts. Ash shoved his hands inside, grabbed onto the object, and pulled it from the box.

"Oh," Phoebe said, standing to her full height. She tried to mask her disappointment. "You bought me a vase?"

He fell back on his haunches. A look of consternation crossed his face. "What makes you think this vase is for you?"

"Isn't it?" she asked, once again searching the box.

Ash shook his head. He stood, walked over to the fireplace, and placed the vase onto the mantle. "Actually, it's for the both of us." He glanced over his shoulder. "A wedding gift."

"A wedding gift?" It was like a punch to her gut. Wedding gifts were for real marriages. She strode across the carpet to join him in front of the fireplace. "Who's it from?"

"The chaplain."

She turned to look at him. "I didn't think you had told anyone about the marriage."

"I haven't told many people, but I had to tell my boss. And, he told the Chaplain and here we are." He slid the vase further down the mantle. "The gift is Ottinger's way of making me feel guilty for not asking him to marry us." He pulled his hands away. "What do you think? Should we keep it here, or move it into the dining room? It might look nice with a fresh bouquet of flowers."

"Either spot seems fine." As a sense of dread ripped through Phoebe, she studied Ash. "Should I be worried about Ottinger?"

For a moment, he stood still with his head slightly cocked. Then a smile parted his lips, and he winked at her. "Ottinger won't be a problem."

"Okay. Good."

"His wife on the other hand..." Ash grabbed the vase, walked out of the living room, and entered the dining room where he sat the vase in the middle of the table. "This was definitely made for the fireplace."

"Wait," Phoebe said, following his retreat. "What about his wife?"

"She's great."

Phoebe could tell he was lying to her. For some reason, he was being purposefully obtuse. "When you see him on Monday, please thank him for me."

"I did one better." Ash clicked his tongue, then he took two cautious steps away from her. "I invited him for dinner." He looked back at the vase. "Maybe we should keep it on the table, that way he sees that we're using his gift."

He was about to walk away, so she snagged his arm and held onto him. "Hold on, Ash. Did you just say you invited him for dinner? When?"

Ash grinned, revealing his dimples. "Don't worry. Not tonight." He patted her hand, then slid it from his arm. "Speaking of dinner. What are we having?"

Phoebe replayed the last few minutes of their conversation, her head spinning with confusion. She settled on talking about their dinner as it seemed the simplest subject at the moment. "Meatloaf."

He spun on his heel. His mouth hung open. "You're fucking with me, right?"

As she walked back into the kitchen, she smothered a grin. "No. I told you yesterday I was making meatloaf."

"No," he said, leaning against the island, "you said you would teach me how to make meatloaf. I shot that idea down."

She waved her hand in a dismissive manner. "Well, the meatloaf's almost done. If you don't want to eat it, you don't have to. I think there's pizza in the fridge."

"I told you he wouldn't be happy."

Phoebe had nearly forgotten about Reggie. And from the surprised look on Ash's face, he hadn't realized she was sitting at the table.

"Hey, Reg," he called out.

She responded by giving him the finger.

He turned his amber gaze back to Phoebe. "Bad day, I take it?"

Phoebe grimaced and placed her hand over her heart. She hid her crossed fingers beneath the neckline of her shirt. "She and I had a very enlightening conversation about the benefits of physical therapy. I told her about my experiences with other clients. Particularly those who had strokes. They worked with both occupational and physical therapists to regain their independence." She shot Reggie a glance from the corner of her eye. "It was a good talk. Right, Reggie?"

This time, Reggie held up two fingers.

Ash sucked air through his teeth, then he sauntered away from the island, bent down beside Reggie, and kissed her on the cheek. She didn't take too kindly to that. She hissed and swiped at her face.

"You keep being grouchy, Reggie, and I'll just have to keep kissing you. Would you like that?"

Reggie swiveled in her chair and pinned her nephew with a dark look. "You do that, and I'll kick you in the nuts."

Ash barked out laughter, then fell into the chair beside her. Folding his hands before him, he looked back at Phoebe. "So about this dinner with the chaplain."

"I hope you didn't schedule it already." Phoebe felt the dread return. Turning away, she removed the meatloaf from the oven and set it on the stove to cool. She then lifted the lid to a pot and checked on the status of the mashed potatoes. "What's your aversion to meatloaf?"

Ash tapped his finger on the table. Then he motioned his finger between himself and Reggie. "You want to tell her, or shall I?"

"I ain't no snitch."

Ash stifled a laugh. "Rumor has it that great-grandma used to feed meatloaf to great-grandpa whenever she was upset with him."

Phoebe lifted the pan of meatloaf and carried it to the table. When she set it down, both Reggie and Ash recoiled in horror. "What's wrong with eating meatloaf?"

Reggie's lip curled. "It was what she put in the meatloaf that was the problem."

Phoebe withdrew her hands. She looked at aunt and nephew and saw the humor igniting the depths of their eyes. "You want me to make a pizza? I'll make the pizza."

"Tomorrow," Ash muttered.

"You want pizza tomorrow?" she asked in confusion.

He shook his head. "No. The chaplain is coming to dinner tomorrow."

Phoebe collapsed into an empty chair, and then glowered at Ashley. To his credit, he dropped his head, but not before she saw the sheepish twist to his mouth. "Tomorrow? Why so soon?"

"It's a long story but, in a nutshell, he's been hounding me about Reggie. He means no harm. He's just trying to tend to his flock, but he's a bit pushy."

She could understand that. When her sister was sick, the bishop from her sister's church would stop by and offer to pray with Andrea. In the end, their prayers weren't answered, but his presence gave Andrea comfort during the lowest point of her illness. But Phoebe could feel that Ash was withholding something from her. "I guess we'll make this work."

"We'll have to," Ash said, rapping his thumbs against the table, "he's awful curious about my wife. And if he thinks there's something not right about our situation, well..." He shrugged.

Phoebe could feel her heartrate accelerate. "What does that mean? He would report us?"

"I don't think it'll come to that." He flashed a grin. "But he's a pretty straight-laced, by-the-book type of person."

She sat quietly as her mind churned with possibilities. She knew the military frowned upon contract marriages, and she also knew that Ash held some type of leadership role and would be expected to set an example. Sliding low in her chair, she groaned and thumped her head against the back of the chair.

"Boy, I guess this meatloaf's just for you." Reggie cackled and pushed the meatloaf pan closer to Ash.

"There is nothing wrong with my meatloaf." Not only was she fighting the anxiety of meeting this chaplain, but she still had to deal with the jeering. "I get a lot of compliments about my meatloaf. I make it with pork sausage--"

Ashley grunted.

"--ground hamburger--"

He snorted.

"--eggs, breadcrumbs--"

He gagged.

Phoebe slapped her hand against the table. "Fine. Make whatever you want."

Reggie and Ash exchanged looks, then they busted into laughter.

"I'll eat your meatloaf, Phoebe."

"Thank you, Reg." She glared at Ash. "What about you?"

His eyes cut towards Reggie who lifted her brows in response. Then he crossed his arms over his chest and relaxed against the back of his chair. "Fine. Whatever."

Phoebe slid from her chair and quickly grabbed the pot of mashed potatoes. Returning to the table, she fixed each of them a plate of meatloaf, potatoes, and steamed broccoli.

"I've survived two car crashes. Three bouts of pneumonia and a stroke." Reggie stuck her fork into the meatloaf, then lifted it into the air and studied it. "And I'm about to be done in by some damn meatloaf."

"Reggie," he exaggerated the pronunciation of her name, "should I tell her that I haven't updated my will?"

As Reggie and Ash exchanged jokes, Phoebe tried to smile and act engaged, but she was full of worry. What did Ash mean about being reported? Would he be the only one to get in trouble, or would they both? She certainly didn't want to affect his career, but she'd never truly understood how their little charade could impact her. Would she lose her educational benefits? Would she lose her economic security?

Would she lose him?

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Ash stood planted in the center of his bedroom, watching his wife pace from one wall to the other. Her hands were clasped behind her back, her feet marched to an indiscernible rhythm, and her chattering was nonstop.

"What am I supposed to call him?" she asked.

"I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you called him Mauricio." Ash folded his arms across his chest and stared at his alarm clock. He wasn't particularly worried about the time; he was just getting dizzy watching her tread a path on his carpet. "But, if it makes you feel more comfortable, you could call him Mr. Ottinger."

She stopped pacing, then turned to him with her eyebrows scrunched. "I don't have to call him sir?"

"No."

She raked her fingernails over her cheek, then slapped at her chin. "Should I address him by his rank? What is his rank?"

"Colonel Ottinger," Ash answered, shaking out his arms and rolling his shoulders back, "and no, you don't have to call him Colonel or Sir."

She pointed at him. "What are you?"

He pressed his hand against his chest. "What am I?"

"What rank are you?"

"I'm a major."

She nodded and slowly resumed her pacing. "And a colonel outranks a major, right?"

"That's right."

She pivoted. "So he's your boss?"

Swiping his hand over his face, he shook his head.

"Look, I know this must all seem rather simple to you," she said, "but I'm new to all of this, and I don't want to appear like a complete jackass in front of this guy." Her eyes were downcast as she rubbed at her neck. Right before his eyes, her color was waning.

"Maybe you should sit down."

She brushed aside his comment. "I'm fine."

"You don't look fine."

"What's wrong with my dress?" She spun towards him and grabbed the hem of her dress. "Should I change? Maybe into something a bit more conservative?" She grabbed onto the v-neck collar of her white cotton shirt and pulled it higher. She pressed her arms together, like she was trying to see how much of her cleavage peeked out from the shirt. Abruptly, her hands fell to her side, and she bolted for the door. "I'll change into a sweater."

Ash rushed forward to place an arm between her and the door. "You look fine."

She continued to tug at her shirt before turning her attention to her khaki skirt. "Is it too short?"

"Jesus, Phoebe, the damn thing falls just below your knees." He dropped his hand and retreated a step. "If it makes you feel better, go ahead and change, but I'm telling you now, he's not the least bit interested in what you're wearing." He didn't think it was necessary to point out that the chaplain's wife might have different ideas.

He could see the insecurity lurking in her eyes. A solemn frown curled her lips, and her hand raked nervously through her long, wavy hair.

"I just don't want to embarrass you, Ash."

Those simple words banished every ounce of his impatience. He approached her, taking her hands into his and weaving their fingers together. He shook their clasped hands against their sides.

"Will you do me a favor?" he asked, staring into her eyes.

Judging from the tightness of her jaw, she was bracing herself for something big. "Anything."

"I'll keep that 'anything' in mind for another occasion." He smiled. "But for right now, all I want you to do is take a deep breath, count to five, then exhale." He thrust his head forward, prompting her to follow his direction.

She puckered her lips, but she then inhaled deeply, held it in her chest, then exhaled through her mouth.

"Again," he said.

There was a slight twitching around her eyes, but she repeated the motion.

"Better?" he asked.

She shook her hands free from his hold. "A bit."

"You have nothing to worry about. You look beautiful." He grabbed onto her upper arms and brushed a quick peck against her forehead. "I'm confident you'll charm the pants right off him."

The doorbell chimed in the distance.

"I can do this," Phoebe muttered.

Wanting another opportunity to put his hands on her, Ash rested his hand at her waist. He practically pushed her from his bedroom, forcing them to walk down the hallway. "Let's go meet Mauricio before Reggie gets to the door."

Phoebe stopped at the top of the stairs. "Oh my God. Reggie."

There was a loud knock at the door.

"It's fine." Ash stepped down, then grabbed Phoebe's hand and pulled her along. "I had a very long conversation with her while you were making dinner. She's not one for religion, but I think she understands the situation."

He made sure they stood together when he finally opened the front door. "Hello, Mauricio." Ash held open the screen door and waited as the chaplain motioned for his wife to enter before him. "I was a bit worried you might get lost finding this place."

Mauricio smiled, revealing a large gap between his two front teeth. "Luckily my wife has an app on her phone that makes getting from place to place easy for me." He extended a hand towards Phoebe. "You must be Phoebe."

She stepped forward and took his hand into hers. "I am." She shot a quick glance at Ash, then turned her attention to Mauricio's wife. "Hello. I'm Phoebe."

Both Phoebe and Mauricio looked at Mauricio's wife. Her narrow nostrils flared in response. She was a striking woman with chestnut hair bobbed around her narrow face; her blue eyes sparkled with intelligence as she studied him and Phoebe. He could see the judgment written on her face. Within seconds of meeting Phoebe, it looked like she'd already come to a decision, and it wasn't a favorable one.

"This is Olivia," said Mauricio, speaking when his wife didn't. He pointed past Phoebe's shoulder. "Ah. There's the vase."

Ash watched as Mauricio walked to the fireplace where the crystal vase was on display. Phoebe, while she was out grocery shopping, had picked up a bouquet of fresh flowers. The vivid colors were in stark contrast to the neutral tones of the living room.

"Ash and I are really appreciative for your kind gift." Phoebe came to stand beside Ash, placing her hand against his forearm. "It was really sweet of you and your wife to think of us."

Mauricio dug his hands into his black trousers, then he turned to face them with a wide grin. "It was no problem at all. I remember long ago when I was a young newlywed." He shot his wife doting look. "Ain't that right, Liv?"

Olivia remained standing near the door. She wore a tan trench coat over a sedate red dress. She gripped a beige purse in her hands. "It wasn't that long ago."

"Twenty-seven years," Mauricio muttered, likely for Ash's ears only. He winked in Ash's direction, then returned to his wife. "Is there a place to hang our coats?"

Feeling as though he was failing at his hosting duties, Ash stepped forward to take their coats. "Sorry. It's been a while since I've had guests at our home." He glanced back towards the kitchen. "Please don't tell my aunt. She'd be embarrassed at my lack of politeness."

Mauricio helped Olivia from her coat. "It's quite all right," he said, handing it over to Ash.

Phoebe motioned towards the couch and loveseat. "Would you like to sit down? The roast is almost done, so I figured we could nibble on some appetizers while we chat."

Ash carried the coats to the closet where he hung them up. He peeked his head into the kitchen to check on Reggie and saw that she was busy playing a game on her tablet. "You okay? You want to come join us out here?"

"Nope," she said, swiping at the tablet's screen. "Just come get me when we're ready to eat."

"Got it." He moved away from the door. As he walked back into the living room, his eyes were drawn to Phoebe, who threw her head back and released a burst of laughter. She sat alone on the loveseat while Mauricio and Olivia occupied the sofa.

"I feel like I'm missing something," Ash said.

Phoebe crossed her legs and placed her arm on the armrest. "He was just sharing the first time you two met."

"I hope not the whole story." Ash sat beside Phoebe and wrapped his arm around her back. She, in turn, rested her head against his shoulder. "I'm not sure I want anyone to know the whole story."

Phoebe squeezed his knee and grinned. "Apparently there's pictures."

"Deleted."

She shook her head, then turned her attention to Olivia. "Have you lived in this area long?"

Olivia's eyes fluttered as she shot an indecipherable look in her husband's direction. "We've been here for about six years, which is a long time when you're a military family."

Phoebe nodded. "Ash told me about that." She looked at him. "That there's a possibility we could be relocated to another base."

"Not just a possibility," Olivia said, locking arms with her husband. Mauricio's brows furrowed as his wife slid closer to him. "A likelihood, I can assure you."

Mauricio hooked his thumb in his wife's direction. "I was explaining to Olivia that you were new to the military, and I thought you might like for Olivia to take you under her wing." He patted his wife's thigh. "She's very active in the spouse community."

Ash felt Phoebe tense beneath his arm. He could sense the denial forming on her lips. "I think Phoebe would like that," Ash said.

He had to give her credit. If you weren't watching her closely, you wouldn't have seen her reaction, but he found himself watching her very closely. She was smiling, but he saw the slight tic at the corner of her mouth.

"I think I would like that." She pushed herself up from the couch and smoothed her skirt. "I better check on Reggie. I asked her to take out the roast when it's done, but she's a bit distracted with a new game."

He watched as she fled the living room. When she reached the kitchen doorway, she turned so he could see her. She lifted her hands, mimicking a choking motion. He smothered a laugh, then grabbed a mini crab cake from the serving tray.

"I can assure you," he said, popping the crab cake into his mouth, "my dear wife is very social."

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

"I could strangle you," Phoebe snarled. She twisted the towel in her hand and snapped it against Ash's ass. She felt immediate satisfaction when he yelped in surprise. "I can't believe you told her I would co-chair the winter holiday market with her."

He skipped away, avoiding another hit from the towel. "To be fair, I simply said that you would like to be social." He grabbed a glass from the sink, rinsed it off, then placed it in the dishwasher. "She was the one who brought up the market idea."

Olivia had left Phoebe feeling cold. It was obvious from the questions Olivia had asked that she didn't approve of Phoebe. What college had she attended? How long had she known Ash? Were they expecting an addition to their family soon?

Phoebe wiped a dinner plate and handed it to Ash. "How am I going to wiggle out of this?"

"Why would you want to?" Ash bumped the door to the dishwasher closed, then switched it on. When he finished, he turned to rest his back against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. "I think it might be fun."

She turned away to hide the rolling of her eyes. She removed the tinfoil from the cabinet and pulled a strip from the box. "I guess that means you'll be volunteering right beside me?"

"Ah."

She covered the leftover roast with the foil. "If it's so much fun, then why aren't you willing to do it?" Why should she be the only one to deal with Olivia's judgmental attitude?

"Because it's a wife thing." He must have noticed the dark look that crossed her face because he pushed away from the counter. "Don't take it the wrong way, please. The military is a strange beast. I've heard stories about how fragmented it used to be, and leadership has taken steps to make things more inclusive, but there's still some level of wanting wives to be involved."

"Do I really have to join this club?" She rested her hand against her hip, watching his eyes closely. She was learning to read the subtle messages lurking there, and she was fairly certain he was being serious. "I'm not sure if I can make the commitment."

"It's not a big commitment," he said, taking the roast from the counter. He held it while she opened the fridge, then he placed it inside. "The dinner was great, by the way."

She shook her finger. "Don't try to distract me with compliments."

"Well, it's the truth. I thought Mauricio was about to lick the plate."

She smiled. "I thought he was about to ask if he could take some home." Seeing Ottinger enjoy her food had made her feel good. It was like she'd won some little victory, one that Olivia hadn't approved of.

"She wouldn't have allowed that." Ash grinned. He reopened the fridge and grabbed a beer from the door. "I should probably warn you about her."

"After I met her?"

"She's someone you need to meet in order to understand." He shrugged and opened the beer. "She's the old-fashioned sort. She's the type who thinks enlisted wives should stick with enlisted wives, while officer wives belong with officer wives. She has some strange notions on proper behavior for officer wives." He took a big gulp. "Whatever you do, don't let her convince you that you shouldn't interact with someone just because of my rank."

Walking to the sink to quickly wash her hands, Phoebe nibbled on the inside of her cheek. "I wouldn't do that. If I like a person, I like them. I don't care about their education or their job or how much money they have." She patted her chest, just above her heart. "I only care if they are a good person."

He leaned against the counter, placing his elbows on the surface. "What about me?" In an uncharacteristic move, he trained his gaze on the beer bottle cradled in his hands. "Do you like me?"

This insufferable man was hers. Her husband. And he was asking if she liked him?

"It depends on the day."

He cocked his head to the side and pointed the tip of the bottle in her direction. "Lies."

"You can be a pain in the ass sometimes."

"Fallacies." The word ended in a hiss.

"At this particular moment," she said, yanking the bottle from his hand and swigging down the last gulp, "I find you barely tolerable."

He pulled the bottle from her hand and held it to the light. With a disgusted snarl, he tossed the empty bottle into the recycling bin. "Just tolerable? After I let you drink my beer?"

She leaned against the counter and placed her hand against his cheek. "Barely tolerable."

The corners of his mouth twitched. His chin jutted forward, allowing him to grasp the tip of her finger between his lips. He sucked it further into his mouth. "What about now?"

Phoebe knew she was playing a dangerous game. Heat simmered inside her, threatening to boil over. A tiny voice in her head warned her that she needed to excuse herself and flee from the room. But she enjoyed their teasing banter too much; it was a refreshing departure from an evening full of silent condemnation.

"I like you a little better," she said instead. She held her hand up, pinching a small space between her thumb and forefinger. "Just a little bit better."

His lips parted to reveal his startling white teeth. He probably intended it to be a smile, but to Phoebe, it looked like a predatory snarl. Then he reached out and hooked his forefinger in her v-neck collar. He tugged at it, then ran his finger over the curve of her breast. "Phoebe Cooper, I think you just issued a challenge. Are you willing to accept it?"

Her heart thudded against her chest. Her limbs felt heavy, almost fluidlike. "Challenge accepted."

The smile faded from his lips. He stood there for a moment, perhaps listening to his own warnings deep in his head. Then he leaned closer to her, and she thought he was about to claim her mouth in a kiss.

Instead, he moved swiftly, grabbing her by the waist and hoisting her onto the island's counter. His hands slid up her thighs, pushing her skirt to her waist. She felt cool air breeze across her warm center as he planted himself between her legs.

"We should probably go upstairs." She kept her voice low, knowing that Reggie slept only a few feet away.

Phoebe felt the air rush from her body when he curled his arms under her legs and pulled her even closer. She bit down on her hand when she felt his teeth nibble across her neck.

"I don't think I can make it, darling." He pulled back so she could see his smile, then he brought his lips close to her ear. "So I suggest you be very quiet, otherwise you might disturb Reggie's sleep." He rocked against her, creating enough wiggle room for him to grab her panties and slide them down her legs.

"Ash," she whispered. A voice of caution echoed through her mind, but it was quickly stamped out by her anticipation. Against her better judgment, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and locked her ankles around his waist.

Reaching between their bodies, he unzipped his jeans and released his cock. Through her lower lashes, she watched as he inched closer. She closed her eyes when she felt him push against her.

His entrance was slow. Filled with impatience, she wanted to scream for him to hurry up. She bit down on her lip and thrust her hips forward so she could meet his slow drive into her. But, she couldn't hold back her gasp when his gradual thrust ended with a powerful surge.

"Shh." He shifted, allowing his hand to slide up to the juncture of her thighs. He grinned wickedly when his thumb traced circles around her sensitive nub. "I don't think you want to scream."

His strokes were firm, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. Her breathing was heavy, and she struggled to keep her moans to a low volume. With each thrust, her gasps grew louder. He claimed her lips, as if to stifle her cries.

Phoebe found the contrast between their attempts to be silent versus the power of their lovemaking to be devastating. She buried her fingers in his hair, feeling her channel begin to constrict around his length. She fell back onto the counter and arched her pelvis, and his body collided against her most sensitive spot.

When her orgasm claimed her, she lurched forward, sunk her fingers in his thick hair, and kissed him savagely, projecting the intensity of her release through the kiss. Soon, his fingers dug into her flesh as he growled and plunged into her one last time.

They remained locked together as they regained control. After a few minutes, Ash kissed the tip of her nose, then pulled out of her. She flinched, feeling swollen and bruised from his unrelenting lovemaking. She felt utterly and completely sated.

"What about now?" He grabbed her skirt and pulled it down to cover her thighs. "Am I still just barely tolerable?"

"I don't know." Phoebe slid from the counter, then wrapped her hand around his thickening cock. "I think I might need a bit more persuading."

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

From her aquiline nose with the slight bump on its bridge to her wide, full-lipped mouth with its perpetual frown, she was not Ash's usual type. She was a dark-haired, dark-eyed, and olive-toned ingenue. The exact opposite of the fair-skinned, pale-eyed, and pale-haired siren he typically went for.

Phoebe's knee dug sharply into his side, and she'd rolled most of the comforter around her body. She didn't snore, but she did whimper and mutter the occasional remark. While her head rested against his chest and her unbound hair tickled his mouth, he tried to wiggle his leg, but it had fallen asleep some time ago. All in all, she was probably the worst companion to ever share his bed, but he couldn't imagine anyone else occupying that space.

After their quick encounter in the kitchen, he'd allowed Phoebe to lead him to his bedroom. They'd spent the early hours of the morning exploring each other and exchanging naughty barbs. At about half past three, Phoebe had pleaded for sleep, and he'd been all too willing to indulge her request. That was, until she took over his bed.

Ash shifted his weight and rolled her onto her back, mostly to make himself more comfortable. But when she landed against the mattress and her thick, long hair pooled around her head, he couldn't help but marvel at her unique beauty.

What should have been quiet admiration turned to gentle kisses between her full breasts. He was drawn to the warmth of her body, particularly the warmth that seemed to generate from the apex of her thighs.

"Phoebe," he whispered, taking her earlobe between his teeth. He wanted her to wake up. But he didn't want to startle her. "Wakey. Wakey."

Her arms fell wide open near her head and her head lolled to the side. Ash sighed, then pressed his coarse-haired thigh against her smooth skin, hoping the friction would trigger a reaction. When she continued to sleep, he grew impatient and abandoned his plan to be gentle.

He reached out, grabbed her phone from the nightstand, and dropped it onto the floor. She immediately sprung up with her eyes wide and mouth open.

"What was that?" She rubbed at her sleepy eyes, then yawned and fell back against the pillow. "Was that outside?"

He laid flat on his belly and tucked his arms beneath his pillow. "That was your phone."

Panic flickered over her face. She fell on top of his back, leaning across as she grabbed her phone. "How did it get down there?"

"I dropped it."

"I hope it's not broken." She studied its display, checking for any cracks. She blew at a speck of dust. "Did you bump it with your arm?"

Ash shook his head, then grabbed the phone from her hands and placed it back onto the nightstand. "No. I actually dropped it on the floor."

"Like on purpose?"

"Yep."

She smacked the back of her hand against his bare buttock. "Why would you do that?"

"I was trying to wake you up." He rolled onto his back, pulling the sheet over his body. "Has anyone ever told you that you have a tendency to hog the bed?"

"No," she said, yawning again. "If you felt the need to drop a phone, why didn't you drop yours?"

"It wasn't in reach." He enjoyed sparring with her. It usually took her a few minutes to acclimate to his teasing mood, but when she responded in kind, she usually managed a few zingers.

But at this particular moment, she was glaring at him from the corner of her eye. She pointed at his phone beside hers. "You couldn't reach that extra inch, huh?"

"It would have been too much effort."

"You're a dick."

"Phoebe," he said, lifting his head from the pillow, "I don't appreciate the ad hominem attacks." He grunted when she flopped against his stomach, forcing the air from his lungs. "I won't let you sleep in my bed again if you keep this up."

She dropped her head and twisted her features. "What makes you think I want to sleep in your bed again?"

"Seriously?"

"I can't imagine how anyone can sleep with you, your ego takes up too much room." She brushed a kiss across his shoulder, then crawled over him. "Joking aside, I better go back to my own room."

He twisted on the bed and grabbed her arm before she walked away. "Why?" He pulled her back onto the bed and slid over so she could lie beside him. "It's not like Reggie's gonna walk in on us."

Ash could feel her relaxing beside him. She lifted her hand to cover another yawn.

"I know she's not gonna barge in on us," she said, glancing towards his alarm clock, "but I'll need to be up and ready to make her breakfast and prepare her medications."

"She's not usually awake for another hour," he said, once again rolling onto his stomach so he could wrap his arm over her stomach. "It's Sunday morning. Why don't we just take it easy this morning?"

It took a few seconds for Phoebe to look away from the clock. She stared up at the ceiling for a moment before shifting her eyes to him. "Okay. But just for a few minutes."

"Challenge accepted," he muttered.

"What?"

Before she could fully register his intent, he'd grabbed her arm and pulled her beneath him. "Trust me, I don't think this will take much more than a few minutes."

She laughed just as he swooped down to claim her lips. He could taste her laughter on his tongue.

"I don't know what to do with you," she whispered.

"Don't worry," he traced his lips down her neck, "I know exactly what to do with you."

He'd accepted a challenge, and he was determined to meet it. Last night, they'd indulged in hours and hours of foreplay. At this moment, he didn't think he could muster up another long lovemaking session. So he settled himself between her thighs, placed himself at her entrance, and thrust fully into her snug yet wet passage.

"Oh God," she whimpered.

"Nope. Try again." He laughed at the appalled expression on her face as he continued his frenzied thrusts. Within mere seconds, she was twisting and bucking beneath him. "You keep that up and this won't last a few minutes."

"I don't care," she gasped.

"Well, then." He grinned, took hold of her breasts, and kissed each peak. "I'm so glad we're on the same page."

Her burst of laughter ended with a guttural growl as he pushed her over the edge. Her muscle contractions rippled around him, and he felt himself being sucked deeper and deeper into her. He followed her, falling right into the whirlwind of pleasure that currently had her ensnared.

Feeling completely sated, he slid off her body onto his back. He laid beside her, his heavy breathing alternating with her husky laughter. He reached over to take her hand, then turned his head so he could look at her.

She was staring back at him. She lifted her free hand and brushed a stray lock of his hair from his brow. Then her nostrils flared, and her teeth bared.

"What's wrong?" The question had barely cleared his lips when he caught a whiff of an acrid smell. It was just registering in his mind what it was when he heard the downstairs fire alarm trigger.

They both bolted from the bed. He gripped the sheets around his torso and fled down the stairs. When he reached the main hallway, he could see a cloud of black smoke forming in the kitchen.

He rushed through the doorway and found Reggie standing near the stove, waving an oven mitten in the air. She caught sight of him, then hunched her shoulders and tossed the mitt onto the counter.

"Did I disturb you?" she asked. From the defiant glint in her eye, he knew his aunt was going on the offensive.

Deciding not to engage in her one-sided battle, he walked to her and grabbed hold of her hand. "Are you okay?"

"What happened?" Phoebe asked, entering the kitchen. Apparently, her delay was due to her sense of modesty. She was wearing her white nightgown. She looked at the skillet with the blackened food, then turned her eyes to Reggie. "Did you forget it was on the stove?"

Reggie's brow arched. Ash recognized the sign and knew his aunt was in a dander. He tried to get Phoebe's attention with a quiet shake of his head. But she was too focused on the scorched breakfast to notice.

"I would have made you your breakfast, Reggie. I don't know why you'd--"

"What?" snapped Reggie. She propped a hand against her hip, then glowered at Phoebe. "You sayin' I can't use the stove? Am I a prisoner here, and I don't know it?"

Ash placed a hand on Reggie's arm. She tensed beneath his touch and tried to pull away, but he tightened his hold. "You know you're not a prisoner. You can come and go whenever you want, and you have free reign of the house." He pointed at the stove. "But, you're recovering from the stroke, and it's affected your mobility and responsiveness. It's probably not a good idea for you to cook without one of us around." He cocked his head in Phoebe's direction. "We just want you to be safe."

"I was hungry," she said, narrowing her eyes, "and I was gettin' tired of waiting for you two to emerge from your room."

"I'm sorry," Ash said, dropping his hand. He grasped at the sheet around his waist. "How about we all get dressed, and I treat us to brunch? There's a nice restaurant near the waterfront, and I think you might enjoy the view."

"Thank God, you're going away," Reggie said, her eyes skimming up and down his nearly naked body. "Maybe I won't go neglected anymore." She puckered her lips, then shuffled around him. "I hope you'll be ready in twenty minutes. I'm starving." She then walked to her room, opened the door, and retreated inside.

Ash watched her go. Her comment about him going away repeated in his mind, and he reluctantly turned in Phoebe's direction. "I've been meaning to tell you something."

Her mouth closed with an audible click. "You're being deployed?"

Shaking his head, he tied the sheet around his waist. "No. I mean, not like you're thinking." His mouth felt dry as he saw panic flare in her eyes. "It's a training exercise. I'll be gone for a couple of weeks." He lifted his hand to silence her objection. "Just two weeks, I promise."

"How long have you known?"

"A few months," he said. "This was planned a long time ago. Way before you moved in. I didn't mention it because I didn't want to worry you."

"When are you leaving?"

"In a few days."

Her eyes widened. Her mouth disappeared into a grim line, but she nodded. She opened her mouth to say something, then shook her head. With a solemn look in her eyes, she turned away and made her way back upstairs.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Three days later, Ash was leaving.

Phoebe hovered near the stairway, watching her husband say farewell to his aunt. Ash was holding Reggie against his chest as Reggie alternated between slapping and rubbing his back.

"You'll call once you get there," Reggie said, pulling away. She patted his cheek, then wiped a tear from her eye. "You know how I worry about you when you go on these trips."

"I'll let you know once I'm settled." He kissed Reggie's cheek. "I'm just going to Texas for two weeks. You're acting like I'm flying out to South Korea or Japan."

"Maybe, but I've seen them news stories about training accidents. Wasn't it just a few months ago that a helicopter crashed and all the crew was killed?" Reggie's jaw stiffened. "I don't think I can ever get used to you putting yourself in danger."

"I love you," he said to her.

Tears clouded Reggie's eyes. She smacked his shoulder. "Go. Get on."

Ash smiled, then stepped away from Reggie. He lowered his head and kicked his shiny boot against his duffel bag. Then he sighed and turned in Phoebe's direction.

She straightened, watching as he came to stand before her.

Things had grown tense between them. She knew she was the primary source of the tension, withdrawing from him emotionally and physically. Reggie's accident in the kitchen had reminded her of why she was here. She wasn't here to be Ash's wife; she was here to take care of Reggie.

It hadn't helped that he'd kept this trip quiet for the past month. He'd mentioned the possibility of being deployed, telling her that it wouldn't happen for another year or so. But here he was, going on a temporary duty assignment, and he hadn't mentioned it.

"You got everything?" she asked.

She already knew that he did. She'd washed, dried, and ironed his clothing, then packed all his belongings into his bags. Everything was accounted for, she'd made sure of it.

Ash had a crooked smile on his face. She found it endearing, but she kept her expression neutral as he stared into her eyes.

"I'm just about ready to go." He glanced towards the door, then looked back at her. "There's just one more thing."

He grinned. But when she didn't respond in kind, his face fell. He blinked, then placed a hand on her shoulder and leaned forward to kiss her on the lips.

She stood still, refusing to respond. He pulled away, then patted his chest in an awkward manner.

"Well, okay." He studied her face one final time before turning to walk to the door. "I'll probably get there really late tonight, so I'll send you a text message."

"Sounds good." She folded her arms across her chest and cocked her head towards the door. "You better get going. You know how bad traffic can get this time of day."

Ash stood there blinking for a moment, then he nodded. He pulled his keys from his pocket and grabbed his bags from the floor. She immediately felt terrible for shutting him out so completely.

Phoebe could deny it all she wanted, but there was a strong connection between them. She'd felt his initial confusion then hurt when she rebuffed his attempts to rekindle the playfulness between them. But keeping his trip secret seemed like something Ash would do with one of his other women, and not with her. His wife.

She left her position near the stairs and walked to where he stood. She covered his hand with hers, grabbing one of the smaller bags. "I'll help you."

The corners of his mouth curled, then uncurled just as swiftly. "Thanks."

She left him, walked out onto the porch, then descended the stairs with the bag braced high against her side. She walked to his truck, opened the passenger door, and slid the bag onto the floor. He approached behind her and squeezed the two bags he carried into the same space.

She expected him to step back, allowing her to move away from the truck. Instead, he braced one arm against the door and the other against the seat. She turned around to face him.

"Are you still denying that something's wrong?" His brows lowered above his dark amber eyes. "I fucked up, didn't I?"

"No," she lied. She braced her hand against the door, resigned to the fact that she wasn't leaving this spot until he felt satisfied with her answer. "It's not you. Not really." She placed her hand against his chest, then pulled it away as if he'd burned her. "I needed some time to get some perspective about why I'm here."

"About us?" She could see his barely contained frustration. A muscle in his cheek flexed, and his hand on the door curled into a fist.

She shook her head. "No. I mean why I left Indiana and relocated to Washington." She held her breath, trying to think of the right words. "I, um, was wondering if I could sign up for classes yet? You mentioned you had to request that I receive the GI Bill, and I wasn't sure if you'd heard anything about that."

His arm fell away from the door. She expected anger, but he only smiled.

"Honey, you're dealing with the military now. Things don't happen that quickly, unfortunately." He leaned away from her and removed his other arm. His eyes twinkled with sudden merriment. "You don't have to worry. It'll come through. Hopefully within the next five years."

"Well, that's encouraging, I guess." She rocked onto her tiptoes and brushed her lips across his cheek. "I hope you have a safe journey. Text me when you get to the lodge." She made to brush past him, but he reached out and gripped her hand.

"What?" she said.

He was quiet as he scanned her face. Then he wrapped his arm around her back and drew her closer. "That wasn't a proper kiss."

"Ash." There was a warning in her voice.

He glanced around the block, then he grinned again. "Don't worry. No one's paying attention." He lowered his lips to hers and whispered against her mouth, "I promise it's just a kiss."

Phoebe struggled with her complicated emotions. She knew she'd miss him; he'd managed to wiggle himself past her natural defenses, and he'd quickly become part of her life. But she was really afraid of letting her affection for him spiral out of control.

In spite of that, when he placed his lips against hers, she didn't back away. She didn't even run when he deepened the kiss and pressed his erection into her. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and opened her lips, allowing his tongue to plunder her mouth.

The world faded away as he held her. In this moment, this kiss was everything to her. She wished they had more time, but they were dragged back to the present when a passing car honked its horn at their public display.

He pulled back and brought his hand to his mouth, covering an embarrassed smile. "I gotta go. We can continue this very important"--he wagged a finger between her and him--"thing when I get back." He backed away from the door, finally granting her freedom.

As he walked to the driver's side, she pushed the door closed and peered at him through the glass. Ash climbed into the truck, shot her an amused glance, then turned the ignition.

"I'll see you soon," he said.

Throwing her hand in a short wave, she stepped back from the truck. He reversed out of the driveway, honked his horn, then tore down the street. Watching him leave left her feeling depressed and empty. She knew she wasn't alone; she'd be busy caring for Reggie while he was gone.

But as he turned the corner and disappeared from view, she came to the reluctant conclusion that he was taking her heart with him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

"What are you doing?" The question was barked into Ash's ear.

Startled, his fingers fumbled over his phone, and it clattered onto his plate, landing in his huevos rancheros. "Damn it." Shooting an annoyed look at Bobby, he picked his phone up and wiped it with his napkin. "Thank God it fell in the rice."

Bobby sat down across from him with a smile on his face. "I was calling your name for, what, the last three minutes?" He nodded his head at Ash's phone. "But you were too busy texting to hear me."

"Sorry," Ash muttered, pushing his plate aside. He placed his elbow on the table and grabbed his coffee mug. "I was texting Phoebe."

Bobby fell against the back of the chair with his hand clutching his chest. "Phoebe?" He rolled his eyes, then motioned at a passing waitress. "Can I get a plate of what he's having?"

She nodded. "I'll put an order in."

"Thanks, doll." Bobby smiled and when the waitress walked away, he followed her movements with his eyes. "You didn't even notice, did you?"

Ash poured more cream into his coffee, then stirred it with his spoon. Lifting the mug to his mouth, he tried to anticipate Bobby's train of thought. "You mean the waitress?"

"Oh." Bobby's head jerked back. "What about her did you notice?"

Ash dropped his mug onto the table, then shifted in his chair to look at the waitress. She was likely in her early forties with a petite figure, honey brown hair, and light green eyes. She'd been extra friendly towards him when he first sat down, but when he hadn't responded to her light flirtation, she'd quickly placed a little more distance between them and a bit more chill in her voice.

"I don't see a ring on her finger," said Ash.

Bobby snapped his fingers and dropped his hand onto the table. "There he is. That's the Coop I know." The waitress returned with a plate in her hand. Bobby pulled back, allowing her to place his breakfast in front of him. He waited for her to walk away before he grabbed the pepper shaker and seasoned his meal. "I've been looking for good ol' Coop. I thought he was lost forever."

"What are you talking about?"

Bobby pointed his fork at Ash. "You've changed, man. Everyone's noticed it. At first, I just assumed that caring for your elderly aunt--"

"Whatever you do, don't call Reggie elderly." Ash's phone buzzed. He knew he'd received another text from Phoebe, but he didn't want to be rude by reading it in front of Bobbie. Instead, he plucked his phone from the table and slid it into his pocket. "I love her, but things have been stressful since she arrived."

"Are we talking about your aunt?" Bobby took a moment to chew his food, then he gulped it down. "Or, are we talking about your wife?"

Ash rolled his eyes. "I'm talking about my aunt. Her recovery has been slower than we all expected, and I can see that she's getting really frustrated about it." He ran his fingers through his hair, then leaned against the back of the chair. "She nearly burnt the house down right before I left. I can't imagine how bad things would be if it weren't for Phoebe."

"How are things with your wife?" Bobby wiped his mouth with his napkin, then tossed it onto his plate. "Things been working out between you?"

Judging from the look in his friend's eye, Ash assumed Bobby had already developed his own opinion on the matter. Ash motioned towards the waitress, letting her know he was ready for the check. Then he turned back to Bobby.

"Things are going good. It was a little rough between her and Reggie in the beginning, but they seem to get along." He took the checks from the waitress, removed his wallet, and counted the bills to cover them. "I don't think I would have managed to keep Reggie at home, if it wasn't for her."

"Which brings me to my original point," Bobby said. "I thought your aunt was the source of the change, but I'm now thinking it's your pretty little wife."

Ash pushed his chair back and got to his feet. "Are you ready to go?"

"Are you dodging my question?" Bobby grinned and stood. "I take it the marriage has evolved from a purely beneficial arrangement to something a bit more"--he screwed up his lips--"carnal."

"I don't want to talk about this," Ash said, walking out of the restaurant. He'd always been open about his previous relationships, but what he had with Phoebe was different. Not something he wanted his friend to joke about. He waited for Bobby, and when he saw his friend reach for his cigarettes, Ash shook his head. "I thought you were quitting."

"That was the plan." Bobby placed a cigarette between his lips, then shrugged. "But it's not worked out the way I planned. Are you going back to the lodge?"

Ash glanced down the block. He was probably a half-mile away from where he was staying. Usually, when he was on TDY, he'd spend his weekends exploring the region. But today, all he could think about was calling Phoebe and checking in on things.

"This is how it starts," Bobby murmured between puffs.

"How what starts?"

Bobby gripped the cigarette between his fingers. "How the end begins." He waved his hand in the air, motioning at Ash. "I gotta admit, I was all lovey-dovey in the beginning, too. I'd wake up holding in her arms. I'd be calling her any chance I got. Hell, she couldn't even take a shit without me pestering her in one way or another." He stuck his cigarette back into his mouth. "Then the honeymoon period was over." He stopped abruptly. "Like, quite literally, soon after the honeymoon things began going south."

Ash stopped walking and pinned Bobby with a dark look. He was annoyed because he'd known Bobby and his wife back then. They'd been happy together. Things likely would have worked out for them if it wasn't for the multiple deployments.

"Things between me and Phoebe are not so complicated. We both entered this marriage with our eyes wide open. She's helping me take care of Reggie, and I'm helping her get the education she wants." He started walking again, kicking his foot out to send a rock flying into the road. "I'm sorry things didn't work out the way you planned, but your situation isn't my situation."

Bobby threw his hands up in defeat. "I'm just trying to save you from getting your heart broken."

Ash nearly tripped over his own feet. He settled his legs beneath him, then he grabbed onto his friend's arm. "Okay. I hear you loud and clear, but you don't need to warn me about protecting my heart."

Bobby searched Ash's eyes; however, Ash couldn't tell if his friend was pleased or concerned about what he saw there. Bobby dropped his cigarette to the sidewalk, then ground it beneath his foot.

"As long as you know what you're doing," Bobby said.

Ash removed his hand and started walking again. "Yeah. I know what I'm doing." At least, he hoped he did.

"Good."

Silence descended between them as they walked back to the lodge. Bobby waved goodbye before turning away to go to his room. Ash approached his door, unlocked it, then stepped inside. As he fell onto the bed, he pulled his phone from his pocket.

He heard Bobby's warning replay itself in his mind. He knew Bobby was concerned about him and didn't want him to experience the pain he'd dealt with. But Ash didn't want to tell Bobby that his warnings were already too late, as he knew he was a goner. After years and years of avoiding commitment, Ash had done the stupidest thing ever.

He'd fallen in love with his own wife.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Phoebe was scrubbing Reggie's bathtub when the older woman came bolting into the bathroom with a panicked look on her face. Phoebe sat down on the edge of the tub, pulled the gloves from her hands, and tossed them into the tub. She assumed Reggie needed to use the toilet, but as she stood to walk from the room, Reggie grabbed onto her arm.

"Whatever you do, don't go to the front door." Reggie reached past Phoebe and shut the door. "In fact, don't leave this room."

The perspiration on Reggie's lip worried Phoebe. Ash had only been gone a few days and during that time, Reggie had gone wild with renewed energy, as if she'd been restraining herself for Ash's benefit. Now she looked on the verge of collapsing. Phoebe quickly washed her hands in the sink, then held onto Reggie's upper arms and guided her onto the toilet.

"What's wrong?" Phoebe asked, taking hold of Reggie's wrist and gauging her pulse. Reggie's heart rate sped out of control, spurring Phoebe into action. She opened the door and walked from the bathroom.

She heard Reggie call for her to come back, but she was on her way to the kitchen where she'd left her phone. "I'm calling for an ambulance."

"No!" Reggie called out.

To Phoebe's surprise, Reggie appeared before her in record time. She wasn't relying on her walker or cane. She grabbed Phoebe's phone and twisted it from her hold. "I don't need no damn ambulance."

"Reggie, I don't want to argue about this."

Phoebe made to grab her phone but Reggie hid it behind her back. Reggie then placed a hand over Phoebe's mouth and directed her eyes towards the front room. "Girl, don't you hear the girl knocking?"

Reggie motioned for Phoebe to be quiet. They waited a few heartbeats, then more pounding sounded at the door. Phoebe furrowed her brows and pulled Reggie's hand from her mouth.

"Is there a reason you don't want me to answer the door?"

Reggie hissed. "Lower your voice." Reggie walked to the window above the sink and looked out into their backyard. She then crept to the doorway that opened to the hallway leading to the dining room. "Damn it. She probably saw us walk into the kitchen."

Suddenly a thought formed in Phoebe's mind. She wondered if the physical therapist had returned, and Reggie was trying to avoid her.

"I can just tell her to go away," Phoebe said, smothering her amusement. She picked up her phone and pointed at the display. "I'll just call her office if she stresses you out that badly."

Reggie squinted an eye. "You think I'm worried about little miss prissy?" she scoffed, then shook her head. "No, Phoebe. You ain't never met this girl, and I don't think you want to."

"You know her?" Phoebe asked.

Reggie closed her mouth and straightened her back. Phoebe waited for an answer to her question, but judging from the quiet determination on Reggie's face, she wasn't going to get one. Rolling her eyes, Phoebe mimicked Reggie's creep to the doorway. She looked down the hallway.

Through the dining room window, she could tell somebody was leaning against the front door. She imagined their visitor was trying to peek through the window.

"No use hiding," called the voice at the door. "I can see you in the kitchen."

Phoebe lifted her eyebrows and pointed back at the door. "Are we going to stay here all day, or are we going to do the polite thing?"

"Fuck politeness."

"For crying out loud." Phoebe left her hiding place and walked down the narrow hallway.

"Don't do it," Reggie pleaded. "You'll regret this."

Phoebe glanced back and saw that Reggie lurked in the hallway. Her skin was pale, and her mouth curled into a ferocious frown. For a moment, Phoebe hesitated, wondering if she should heed Reggie's warning.

But their guest decided to stop the knocking and switch to ringing the doorbell. Over and over. Shooting a perturbed look in Reggie's direction, Phoebe grabbed the doorknob and opened the door wide.

She stared at the younger woman standing on the other side of the screen door. Phoebe had intended to greet her with a smile, but the woman was glaring back at her with rage filling her eyes.

Phoebe's confidence faltered. Her mind raced as she tried to piece together the puzzle of this woman. Was she one of Reggie's former caregivers? Was she one of Ash's exes?

"May I help you?" Phoebe asked, searching the woman's face. She was looking for any hint of jealousy or sadness, but all she saw was anger.

The woman leaned her arm against the screen door and damn near pressed her face against the screen. Her hazel eyes blazed. "I'm going to let Ash know how terrible you are at your job. I've been standing out here for the last fifteen minutes, waiting for you to answer the door." She grabbed the door handle. "Unlock it."

"I'm sorry. Who are you?"

The woman straightened and ignored Phoebe's question. She looked past Phoebe and motioned towards Reggie. "Reg, please open the door."

"Does Ash know you're here?" Reggie asked. She didn't move from her spot in the hallway.

The woman shifted from one foot to the other and then crossed her arms over her chest. "Ash isn't answering my phone calls." She twisted her lips. "As usual."

Phoebe turned when she heard Reggie approach. They stood side by side, and she could see the apprehension had faded from Reggie. If Phoebe was honest with herself, it had unnerved her to see Reggie so frazzled by this woman's presence.

Phoebe stepped forward to place her hand on the door. "Ash is away and won't be back for a few days. He didn't mention that he was expecting visitors, so I think it's probably best if you came back when he’s home."

That definitely didn't please the other woman. She curled her hand into a fist and pounded the door. "Dammit, Reggie. Would you tell your little nurse to back off?" She sent Phoebe a scathing glance. "You can let her know that I'm family."

"Family?" Phoebe asked, looking back and forth between the woman and Reggie. When neither one answered, Phoebe raised her brows and gave Reggie a pointed look. "She's family?"

"I'm Jack."

Phoebe had heard the name before, and she could recall Ash's enraged mood upon receiving a call from Jack. But she'd assumed that Jack was a man, perhaps a colleague from work. She knew the confusion was clear on her face. "I'm sorry, but Ash never mentioned anything about you."

"I'm his baby sister."

Phoebe closed her mouth with an audible click. Ash had mentioned his two younger sisters a few times, mostly when he discussed his childhood growing up in Reggie's house. But he'd referred to them as Francine and Jacinda, and he never called them by a nickname.

Stepping closer, Phoebe could see the subtle similarities between Jack and Ash. The same long, curly lashes. The same mouth, except she had a piercing in her bottom lip.

Finally, after a moment, Phoebe unlocked the screen door and stepped aside.

Jack entered the living room and dropped a bag beside her booted feet. She barely acknowledged Phoebe's presence even though they stood only a few inches apart. "How are you, Aunt Reggie?"

Jack was a few inches taller than Phoebe. Her hair was dyed a rainbow ombre, and it was twisted into a braid hanging over her shoulder. Her eyes were hazel while Ash's were a bright amber, but they shared the same eye shape.

It finally dawned on Phoebe that she was meeting her sister-in-law, and that sister-in-law had no clue who she was. "I'm Phoebe."

Jack shot Phoebe a look from the corner of her eye, but she walked to where Reggie stood and took her aunt in an awkward hug. From over Jack's shoulder, Reggie screwed up her features but patted her niece's back.

"Frank told me Ash was gone on a training mission and had left you with the help." Jack was looking at Reggie, but Phoebe knew the words were meant for her. "I thought it best if I come check in on you and make sure you're okay."

"I'm fine," Reggie said, pulling away from Jack. "I wish you'd bothered to call before you flew all the way up here."

Jack laughed. "If I did, you would have told me not to come."

"Damn right I would've." Reggie waved her hand dismissively. "Ash ain't gonna like you here."

"Well, Frank would have come, but her doctor advised her against traveling." Jack looked at her watch, then spun on her heel and walked back to her travel bag. She picked it up and held it against her chest as she dug into it. She pulled out a light blue box, shook it so the contents rattled, then she handed it to Reggie. "I brought you something."

Reggie's noticeable chill swiftly thawed. Interest shone in her eyes as she plucked the box from Jack's hand. Phoebe approached them, curious to see what was in the box.

"I know they're your favorite candies." Pride shone on Jack's face as Reggie opened the box to reveal peanut butter fudge.

Phoebe sighed, knowing this was a pathway to disaster. She'd been carefully monitoring Reggie's sugar since her last checkup. Her sugar levels were elevated. Not to the point where she was diagnosed with diabetes, but Phoebe had been advised by the doctor to limit the sugar in Reggie's diet.

"One piece," Phoebe said, taking the box from Reggie's hands and opening it wide. She held it out, waited until Reggie took a piece, then she promptly closed the box and held onto it.

Jack pointed in Phoebe's direction. "Who are you to think you can talk to my aunt like that?"

Merriment glittered in Reggie's eyes as she shot Phoebe an ornery look. The corners of her mouth curled as she looked to her niece and nodded in Phoebe's direction.

"You gonna tell her?" Reggie asked Phoebe.

Phoebe's stomach churned. "She doesn't know?"

Reggie shook her head.

"And you didn't tell her?"

Reggie grinned, baring her teeth. "I ain't no snitch."

Jack must have picked up that something was out of the ordinary. Her brow furrowed and her lips were pinched. "Who are you?"

"I..." Phoebe blew a gust of air through her lips, then shifted from one foot to the other as she thought of the right words. When none came to mind, she simply lifted her left hand and pointed at her wedding ring.

Jack blanched and collapsed against the back of the couch. "And I thought I was the fuck-up!"

CHAPTER THIRTY

Ash was leaving a late-night briefing when his phone began to buzz. He looked at the display and saw that he'd had multiple missed calls from Phoebe, Jack, and Frank. Feeling panic well in his chest as he realized he'd received no calls from Reggie, he bolted for the exit and stepped out into the brisk night air.

Just as he made it to his rental car, there was another incoming call. It was from his sister, Frank.

"What's wrong?" He opened his car door, tossed his case onto the passenger seat, then fell into the driver's seat. "Is it Reg?"

"You asshole!" raged Frank through the receiver. "How could you do this?"

He held the phone away from his ear as he checked the name on the phone. It was Frank on the other end, but she didn't sound like the rational, coolheaded sibling she usually was.

Feeling his anxiety dissipate, he started the car and turned on the air conditioner. If there was something wrong with Reg, Frank wouldn't be pissed at him.

"What have I done now?" he asked, switching on the speaker function for his phone. He placed the phone into its holder, then he put the car in reverse and pulled out of the parking spot. As he drove from the parking lot, he could hear Frank's heavy breathing through the phone. "Should I be worried?"

He heard a faint sniff, and he realized that she was silent because she was crying. Once again, his anxiety returned.

"Tell me what's wrong. I can't do a damn thing about it if I don't know what's bothering you."

"Did you get married?"

No use beating around the bush. She knew the truth, and he wasn't going to lie about it. Not to Frank. "Yeah. I did."

"You asshole."

His hands gripped the steering wheel. He struggled to pay attention to the other cars on the road as he framed an explanation in his mind. "It's complicated."

"That's all you can say? It's complicated?"

"Look," Ash said, pulling onto the main road that led to the lodge. "I'm driving back to my room right now. Can we talk later?"

"No," she said. There was a bit of noise in the background. It sounded as if a door was slamming. "Pull over if you have to, but you're not getting off this phone until you talk to me. How you could you do this?" There were tears in her voice. "Ash, you fell in love with someone and you couldn't tell me about her?"

"It's not that simple. I--"

"Was it that Victoria? Please tell me you didn't marry her. No, wait. Jack said her name is Phoebe. Who is Phoebe? Was she the dental hygienist?"

He had to go through his mental catalog of ex-girlfriends. Unfortunately, he'd dated a few dental hygienists, but he figured she must have been talking about one particular girl. "You're thinking of Patricia and, no, I didn't marry her."

"Who is Phoebe?"

Who was Phoebe? He could spend the next hour describing her, but he knew that wouldn't satisfy his middle sister. He settled for an abridged version of the story and hoped it would be enough to satisfy her curiosity until the two of them could meet.

"You haven't met her. She's new to the area, and she's planning to go to school to become a nurse."

"And?"

"And what?" he said, pulling into the parking lot of the lodge. He parked his car near the stairway leading to his room, then he turned off the car. "What else would you like to know?"

"How did you meet her? How long were you two dating? Why didn't you invite us to the wedding?" There was a brief pause on the other end of the phone. "Oh my goodness. You got her pregnant, didn't you?"

"I'll have you know we didn't have sex until after we were married." Ash felt smug as he realized that was the truth. "I met her online and--"

"You're joking, right?"

His head dropped to the steering wheel. He knew he should be forthcoming with Frank, but he decided to only give her part of the truth. "No. I'm dead serious. Look, it's not a real marriage, okay? It's a special arrangement between us."

Ash didn't try to explain that his relationship with Phoebe was much more than a special arrangement. He'd spent a lifetime telling everyone near and dear to him that he had no plans to get married. Both of his sisters knew he enjoyed a life with minimal commitments. But his whole perspective on marriage had changed after he'd married his temporary wife. And he wasn't quite ready to announce that to Frank, who he knew would be happy and supportive. He was much more concerned about Jack finding out because she'd take pleasure in destroying his happiness.

"A special arrangement?" she asked. "What are you talking about?"

He plucked the phone from the holder, then turned off the speaker. He cradled the phone between his head and shoulder as he climbed out of the car. "Hold on. Let me get to my room, and I'll explain." He found himself dragging his feet as he walked the long corridor to his room. When he arrived, he slowly unlocked the door, dropped his case, then leapt onto the bed. "I got in a little over my head when I moved Reggie in. I just assumed I could hire someone to take care of her while I was at work but, you know Reggie, she didn't appreciate having someone babysitting her. Before I knew it, she'd run through nearly a dozen"--he knew he exaggerated--"caregivers and my boss was running out of patience. Someone suggested finding a wife who'd care for Reggie, and it sounded like a good idea."

"You could have sent her home to me," Frank muttered. In the background, Ash could hear his newborn nephew screaming for attention.

"Your hands are already full." He sat up and kicked off his shoes. "And asking Jack was out of the question."

"You have to give her a chance, Ash."

He shook his head even though she couldn't see the motion. "Look. She's burned me way too many times. I've bailed her out of jail. I let her move in with me, only to have her steal from me, then get arrested when she was trying to buy her next fix." He was so angry with the abrupt change in conversation that he found himself ripping his clothes off. "I know she's been sober for a while, but she's been sober before. She's gonna have to earn my trust again, and that's going to take time."

Frank released a heavy sigh. "Jack says Phoebe--"

"Wait a second. How does Jack know about Phoebe? Reggie wouldn't rat me out."

There was a brief pause on the other end. "Don't get mad."

"Frank."

"I might have told Jack that you were going away for a while and leaving Reggie with a caregiver. In my defense, if I'd known that you were leaving her with your wife, I might not have worried."

Dread formed in the pit of his stomach. His fingers ached as he clutched the phone more tightly. "What are you saying?"

"Jack's there."

"Bye," he said, ending the call abruptly so he could call Phoebe. When she answered the phone, he could hear Jack and Reggie talking in the background. "What's going on?"

There was a slight hesitation, then Phoebe greeted him. "Hey, Ash."

"Look, I'm sure you're confused and probably pissed, and you have a right to be. But right now, I need you to do me a favor. Is Jack in the same room with you?"

There was another hesitation. "Yes."

"Go to another room."

"Why? We're just sitting down for dinner."

"Please, just go up to your room." He heard her murmur her apologies. He held onto the phone as he waited for her to give him the all-clear.

"Okay. What's up?"

"My sister, Jack, she's in recovery."

"Ah." The way she said that simple sound conveyed a lot. He knew a bit about her history. He knew that her mother had struggled with addiction and that she'd died from a drug overdose. "I'd wondered, considering how Reggie acted when she arrived. I guess there's still some bad blood there, huh?"

"It's complicated," he muttered. He loved his younger sister, he truly did, and he felt awful putting Phoebe into this awkward position, but he wasn't ready to be burned again. "She's been sober over a year, but she's relapsed in the past. I'm not worried about her being around Reggie. I am worried that she might try to take Reggie's meds. She's done things like that before."

"Got it," Phoebe said.

He knew what he was about to say would upset her. "She has a lot of bitterness. She's never forgiven me for reporting her to the cops." If Jack understood how much trouble he could face for marrying Phoebe under false pretenses, then she would report his ass in a heartbeat. But he didn't want to burden Phoebe with that knowledge. "Don't let her out of your sight. She has a history of rummaging through people's things."

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Phoebe sawed into her French toast, ignoring the blazing glare of Jack's hazel eyes. It was the tensest breakfast she'd ever experienced; even worse than the meals she'd suffered through when she'd lived with Paul and Brandilynn. It would have been easy for her to extract herself from this situation, but Reggie had begged Phoebe not to leave her alone with her niece.

She knew the reasons behind Ash's distrust of his youngest sister, but she didn't quite grasp the source of Reggie's apprehension. Phoebe hadn't had an opportunity to converse alone with Reggie. Since Jack's arrival, the younger woman had gone out of her way to insert herself in every interaction Phoebe had with Reggie.

At first, Phoebe had assumed it was due to Jack's concern for her aunt. That made sense to Phoebe. She remembered when she was carrying for Andrea and had taken one night off to visit with Dana and the kids. Even though Andrea had been at home with her husband, that hadn't stopped Phoebe from worrying that she wouldn't eat a proper meal or that Paul would forget to grind her medication.

However, as the morning dragged on, Phoebe reassessed her initial conclusion. She'd watched the interactions between Reggie and Jack, and she was nearly convinced that Jack was afraid that if she wasn't around Reggie, then Reggie would reveal some big secret.

"Would you like more eggs?" Phoebe asked, studying the unusually quiet Reggie.

Reggie sat across from her gripping her fork. There were deep shadows under her eyes, and her gaze was downcast. With her drooping shoulders, she seemed despondent, almost like a whipped dog. It worried Phoebe, especially when Reggie remained silent and pushed her food from one side of the plate to the other.

"I think we might have some frozen strawberries I could defrost and puree. I'm sorry about the sugar-free syrup, I was really hoping it would taste better than it did." Phoebe reached out and placed her hand on Reggie's arm. "Or, if you're feeling a bit more adventurous, we could drizzle on some of that chocolate-hazelnut spread and add some whipped cream."

As if pulling herself from a fog, Reggie patted Phoebe's hand, then dropped her fork onto the plate. "Don't fret none, Phoebe. I guess I'm just not in the mood for no French toast."

"I could make some pancakes. It'd just take a few minutes."

Reggie smiled and shook her head. She pulled her hand away to place it on Phoebe's cheek. "You're a sweetheart for asking, but I'm okay. I've eaten all my bacon and half my eggs." She dropped her hand to her coffee mug. "I'll just sip my coffee while you two finish with your breakfasts."

Phoebe could feel the rage pulsing from the other end of the table. She looked at Jack and found her shooting daggers in Phoebe's direction. Their eyes connected for a moment, and Phoebe recognized a challenge there. For a moment, she entertained the thought of having a stare-down, as she didn't want this other woman to think she was weak. But then she reminded herself that this wasn't a competition, and she wouldn't find herself struggling to win Reggie, or Ash's, affections.

"I think I'm done, too." Phoebe broke their stare-down. She placed her fork and knife onto her plate, then slid from her seat. She picked up her place setting and held out her hand to take Reggie's plate. "I'll take it, if you're absolutely finished."

Reggie inclined her head, then she handed her plate and utensils to Phoebe. "I've been thinking. Maybe you and me can go do a bit of shopping. I'd like to pick up some bananas and fresh blackberries."

A loud throat clearing drew both Phoebe and Reggie's attention. They looked at Jack and found her stabbing into a piece of sausage. "I can take you, Reggie. I need to pick up some things myself. I only packed for a few days."

Her comment brought Phoebe up short. She'd never asked Jack how long she intended to stay. "How long are you planning to stay?"

"Why?" Jack asked, cocking her head. The challenge returned to her eyes. "Does it matter?"

Phoebe felt herself plunging towards a no-win situation. On the one hand, Jack was family and, in spite of whatever the history was between them, she obviously cared about Reggie, hence her surprise trip to check on her. On the other hand, she hadn't been invited and, irrespective of their status as a married couple, this was still Ash's home, and he wasn't comfortable having her around. Phoebe could tell Jack to leave, knowing she would forever alienate one or both of her sisters-in-law. Or, she could keep Jack around and risk having Ash blow up when he arrived home. She wished she didn't have to make a choice, but even if she chose to do nothing, it would mean that Jack was given tacit approval to stay.

"Well..." Phoebe licked her lips, thinking of the right words. "Ash will be home in another few days. I don't know the history between the two of you, but I have the impression things are rather strained."

Reggie snorted, then traced her finger around the rim of her coffee mug. "Strained is putting it lightly."

"It's not really any of your business what's going on between me and Ash. It's a family thing."

Reggie's face blossomed into a full-blown grin. "Like it or not, Jack"--she pointed in Phoebe's direction--"she's family now."

"I talked to Frank." A look of triumph flashed over Jack's features. Resting her back against the chair, she smirked. "She's the nursing aide that Ash married so he could save money and his job." She arched a brow at Reggie. "That doesn't make her family."

Phoebe flinched at the hurtful words. She knew the reasons why Ash had married her, but she'd genuinely thought they'd developed something deep between them. How did he truly feel about her if he described her like this?

Any amusement on Reggie's face quickly evaporated. She slapped her palm against the table. "Jacinda, I warn you now. If you go around Ash talking like that, you'll find your ass bouncin' against the sidewalk." She leaned forward and wagged her finger in warning. "So if I was you, I'd start learning to keep my damn opinion to myself."

It was well past time for Phoebe to intervene. The docile Reggie had fled the room and now the old curmudgeon had returned.

"I think it's a good idea if you and me got out of the house." Phoebe walked to Reggie's chair and placed her hand against the back. "Would you like to go with us, Jack? We could catch a movie or maybe go to an afternoon bingo session."

"No, thank you." Jack stood from her chair and grabbed her plate from the table. "I can go to the store later."

Ash's warning replayed in Phoebe's mind. She wasn't unfamiliar with addicts; she'd grown up with a mother addicted to heroin, and she could remember her mother's frequent attempts at sobriety. She also remembered the levels her mother had stooped to in order to feed her addiction.

But Phoebe wasn't here to serve as Jack's babysitter. She was here to care for Reggie and, judging from the strain on her face, it was time they all took a break.

"Okay," Phoebe said. "If you'd like, you can write me a list, and I can pick you up a few things." She wiped her hands against her thighs, and then she glanced around the kitchen. "We've been eating a fairly clean diet lately. We've been monitoring Reggie's sugar intake, and Ash has been working to maintain his weight. So, I don't think we have many good snacks around the house."

From the corner of her eye, she could see Reggie motioning at her. But Phoebe ignored her to focus on the shifting emotions rolling over Jack's face.

"I'm good," Jack said, seeming a bit upset. She looked towards Reggie with her brows raised. "I guess this means you're staying?"

Reggie's mouth curled, but she shook her head. "Phoebe and I'll just be gone for a minute. Stay out of my room, Jacinda."

Phoebe looked between Jack and Reggie. She was definitely missing something, but it wasn't her place to pry. Making a mental note to herself, she promised to ask Ash about it the first chance she got.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Phoebe clutched her purse as two older women brushed past her. From the corner of her eye, she glanced at Reggie and saw the happiness gleaming in the older woman's face. Reggie was even bobbing her head to the loud vibrations emitted from the club's sound system.

"Are you sure about this?" Phoebe fell against the wall while a gaggle of blue-haired women stepped into the entryway. She frowned as she watched them whisper and giggle. She cut another glance in Reggie's direction and found that her charge was no longer there. "Reggie!"

The loud music throbbed through her head. Even though no smoking was allowed in the venue, enough of it lingered on the clothes of the patrons that she felt her eyes water. She even caught the distinctive whiff of marijuana in the air, and she covered her nose with a curled fist while she made her way through the packed crowd.

After their shopping trip, Phoebe had convinced Reggie to participate in a bingo game at one of the local casinos. They'd agreed that if Phoebe chose the bingo, then they would do something of Reggie's choosing after the game was finished. To Phoebe's surprise, Reggie had given her directions to a dimly-lit nightclub just east of downtown Tacoma.

"Reggie!" Phoebe didn't know why she continued to call Reggie's name. She was only making her voice hoarse as she competed with the music, laughter, and conversation. She clamped her purse against her body and took shallow breaths through her nose as she walked around the venue in search of Reggie.

After five minutes, Phoebe came to two startling revelations. The first was that it must have been ladies' night as the club was packed with mostly women. The only men she'd seen were the bartenders and the bouncer at the door. The second thing she realized was that she was likely one of the youngest women in the place.

That observation snagged her full attention. Standing in the center of the club, she spun in a circle and realized that she wasn't finding Reggie because she was standing in a gaggle of Reggies.

Phoebe grabbed her purse and rummaged around until her hand grazed her phone. She was pulling it out when she felt a hand latch onto her forearm and spin her around.

"Damn, girl, you need your hearing checked." Reggie pulled on her arm until Phoebe staggered in the direction Reggie wanted. They bobbed and weaved through the crowd until they arrived at a table near the wall.

"You found her?" asked a large-boned woman. She was sitting at the table with a wad of money in her hands. As her eyes perused the length of Phoebe's body, her thumbs flicked over the bills.

Reggie sat down beside the woman, then plucked a shot glass from the table and threw it back. She cut Phoebe with such a sharp glance that Phoebe closed her mouth before she could utter an objection. As Phoebe sunk down into the chair beside Reggie, she watched another older woman, who looked as though she was in her early seventies, lift a bottle of whiskey and pour more shots for the group.

Placing one hand on the back of Phoebe's chair, Reggie rested her other elbow on the table. She inclined her head in Phoebe's direction. "This is Phoebe. My niece." Reggie removed her hand from Phoebe's chair and grabbed her shot glass. Lifting it, she motioned towards the large-boned woman. "Phoebe, meet my new friends. This is Kalena." She pointed at the other woman. "And this is her sister-in-law, Soo-Jung."

Kalena reached out in Phoebe's direction, and Phoebe assumed the other woman wanted to shake hands. But instead of taking her hand, the woman grabbed onto Phoebe's upper arm and squeezed.

"You're so little," Kalena said, pulling her hand back. Her nose crinkled as if she'd caught a bad odor. "My son likes his women with a bit more meat."

"Uh..." Phoebe's empty hand fell onto the table. She looked at Reggie, who only motioned for Soo-Jung to pour more whiskey. When she realized help wasn't coming, Phoebe lifted her left hand and pointed at her wedding band. "I'm married actually. I'm married to Reggie's nephew."

Kalena cocked her head to the side as she studied Phoebe's ring. Then she turned her gaze back to Phoebe's face and shrugged. "So."

There was a shrill scream from the front of the venue. Reggie, Kalena, and Soo-Jung all turned rapt eyes in that direction while Phoebe exhaled a heavy breath. More screams filled the air as a man dressed in only black leather pants and a white bowtie stepped out onto the stage.

"Good evening, Tacoma!" yelled the scantily-clad man into the microphone. His bright white teeth contrasted with his darkly tanned skin. His gelled blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and his pectoral muscles bounced with each word he said. "My name is Dirty Rod, and I'll be your host for the evening." Dirty Rod braced his legs apart, which sent some of the women into near vapors. "Welcome to the Houston Revue!"

Phoebe told herself that the Houston Revue was some obscure cover band. She'd nearly convinced herself that they must perform hit songs from the seventies when loud house music began to fill the venue. This sent the audience into a frenzy; many of the women leapt from their seats and shouted.

Dirty Rod pointed into the crowd. Then to Phoebe's horror, he cocked his fingers like they were a gun and began shooting at women throughout the audience. His pretend victims would gasp loudly, clutch at their chests, and collapse back into their chairs.

"Where are the instruments?" Phoebe murmured.

She didn't think her voice would carry over the noise, but her words must have reached Reggie because she sent Phoebe an amused glance. Then Reggie chuckled low in her throat, pulled her wallet from her pocket, and grabbed a fistful of bills from inside.

"Where'd that come from?" Phoebe asked, pointing at the money.

Reggie waved her question away. "Inconsequential."

"Wait--"

Phoebe never finished her statement. Instead, bright strobe lights pulsed from the stage and the music faded to a whisper. Phoebe would have been awed by the near silence of the crowd, but then the music boomed loudly and sent the women into hysterics. Kalena and Soo-Jung jumped from their seats and began clapping exuberantly.

Reggie's rise was a bit slower, but even she was standing on her toes. "Look at this, Phoebe."

Judging from the piercing screams around her, Phoebe had a good idea what she would see. "That's okay. I'm good right here."

"No-no-no," Reggie said, grasping Phoebe's arm and tugging, "you need to see this." She stared down at Phoebe over the rim of her glasses. "You'll thank me."

Phoebe slouched down in her chair, which only gave her a better view of the stage. She could see the man on stage, who was in the middle of ripping the t-shirt from his own body. Groaning loudly, she covered her eyes with her hand.

There was a vibration against her chest. She plopped her purse down onto the table, then she reached inside and removed her phone. It was Ash.

She glanced at Reggie and saw rapture written on her features. Curling away from the table, Phoebe stuck a finger in her ear and answered the phone. "Hey."

"Where are you?" was his immediate question. Then, after a few moments of dead silence on his end, he asked another. "Are you with Reggie?"

Phoebe nodded, then realized he couldn't see her movements. "Yeah. She's sitting right beside me."

"Is she okay?" he asked.

Phoebe studied Reggie's face again. She noted the vastness of Reggie's pupils, and the frenzied pulse at her neck. She looked close to swooning, likely from hot lust rather than illness. "Um. She's good. I think."

"Let me talk to her."

Phoebe grimaced. "She's a bit busy at the moment."

"Where's Jack?"

"She's at home."

Ash unleashed a torrent of curses. "Damn it. You don't know Jack like I do. She's probably sold half my shit already." He sighed through the phone. "She get to you?"

"No, I think we came to an understanding." Phoebe wanted to ask him about his conversation with Frank. She wanted him to explain how he'd introduced her to his sisters. But then she glanced at Reggie, who licked her lips and pushed up her sagging breasts. "I should probably go."

More silence greeted Phoebe. She wasn't sure if the loudness of the venue made it difficult for him to understand what she was saying. Then she heard him chuckle.

"She took you to a strip club, didn't she?"

"Yes. Whoa." Phoebe leapt from her chair when Kalena nearly landed in her lap. The other woman threw her head back, laughing loudly as she leaned against the table. Phoebe nearly dropped her phone when she noticed the thickly-muscled man pressed against Kalena with his face buried between her breasts. "Oh, dear Jesus."

"Well, I'll just leave you two to it," Ash said. "Oh, by the way, whatever you do, don't let Reggie get on the stage." There was an audible click as Ash ended the phone call.

Phoebe was pushing her phone back into her purse when she felt something bump against her shoulder. She assumed it was one of the fawning women, but when she turned to look, she found herself at eye level with a thrusting pelvis.

Her mouth fell open as she stared hypnotically at the bulge between his legs. The stripper had removed most of his clothing. Now he was only dressed in a bright blue G-string. Leaning away from his bouncing cock, Phoebe's gaze roamed up his torso before landing on his broad, muscular shoulders. For a moment, her eyes were drawn to the distinctive tattoo that covered his shoulder and traveled down the length of his arm.

When her gaze finally reached his face, she found wicked amusement darkening his blue eyes. With an exaggerated wink, he spun around, and Phoebe bit back a shriek as she turned away. Before Phoebe crawled under the table, the last thing she saw and heard was Reggie leaning over to smack her palms against his bare ass cheeks.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Phoebe slept on her side with her hand shoved under his pillow. She'd tossed the bed sheet away from her body, and her white nightgown was bunched around her knees. She looked warm and cuddly. Ash almost felt bad that he'd be waking her up from such a sound sleep.

Smiling with anticipation, Ash pulled the cap from his head and tossed it onto the dresser. Then inspiration struck, and he switched on the lamp beside the bed. Crossing his arms over his chest, he stood over the bed until Phoebe's eyes began to twitch. When her eyes opened and focused on him, he grinned and dropped his arms to his sides.

"One second," he said, reaching into his pocket to withdraw his phone. He opened his music app, then switched on his favorite workout playlist and sat his phone on the table.

"What are you--"

Ash placed a finger against Phoebe's lips, silencing her question. "Did you enjoy the strippers?"

She groaned and buried her face in her hands. "I don't want to think about it. It's an experience I hope to never repeat."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Positive," she said, dropping her hands. She made to stand from the bed, but Ash placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back down.

"They must not have done it right."

"What?" she asked.

Ash grabbed the front of his chambray shirt and yanked open the buttons. "I guess I'll just have to remedy that."

"No. No." Her hands were in the air as she pleaded with him to stop. "Please no."

Gyrating his hips to the music, Ash placed a knee onto the mattress and pulled off his shirt. As Phoebe swatted at him with her hands, he brought his other knee up to straddle her lap. He rubbed his hands up and down his still-covered chest, then he threw back his head and started moaning loudly.

"You like that, baby?" he asked.

Phoebe choked back a giggle. "I swear to you, Ashley Cooper, I am making you meatloaf tomorrow."

"Oh?" He stared down at her. "It's like that?"

She gave him a stern look. "Yep."

He hopped away from her. Nodding as if he was accepting her threat, he reached for his phone. Instead of turning off the music, he blasted it up to the highest volume. He then looped his shirt around her head and drew her towards his belly.

Phoebe bit at his stomach, which only encouraged him. He tossed the shirt aside, then grabbed her hands and placed them on his chest. "I think that deserved a least a dollar."

"I'm not paying you shit."

"Fine," he said, latching onto his tank top. Baring his teeth, he ripped it from his body. "I guess I'll just take an IOU." He dropped his hands to his waist, grabbing onto his belt buckle. "You want some of this, don't you?"

Her gaze dropped to the floor. "Not particularly."

He placed a finger beneath her chin. "You're such a wickedly bad liar."

She lifted her dark eyes. They shone with merriment. "You are such a wickedly bad man."

Ash unbuckled his belt, then he pulled it from his jeans. Curling the corner of his mouth, he unzipped his pants and shoved them down his legs.

Phoebe's hands rose like she was motioning for a timeout. "Hold up. You've done this before."

Ash shrugged. "You liked it then, so why reinvent the wheel?"

"Men are so predictable."

"Excuse me?" he asked, planting his hand against his chest. He lifted a finger and waved it in the air. "Uh-uh. No, ma'am. I will not allow you to slander my character." He reached for his phone, but before he could grab it, her hand darted out and wrapped itself around his wrist.

"Is that all?" she asked, looking at him from the corner of her eye.

He pulled his pants back up and zipped them. "I decided I'm worth more than your cheap, insulting words."

The corners of her lips quirked, then she glanced at him through her thick lashes. She hooked her hand into his waistband and pulled him closer. She rested her chin against his stomach and stared at him with those dark eyes.

"Did I hurt your feelings?" she asked.

Sniffing, he pushed out his bottom lip and looked away. "Maybe."

"Aww, poor Ash." She pulled her head away, then unzipped his jeans. She slid her hand inside his underwear and curled her hand around his cock. "I guess I'll just have to make it up to you."

Returning his gaze to her, he grinned. "Yes. Yes, you will."

They both jumped when the door suddenly crashed open. He squealed in surprise, while Phoebe pulled her hand back. There standing in the doorway was Jack. She wore a green t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts.

"Fuck," Jack muttered.

Ash threw his head back in exasperation, then he ran his fingers through his hair. "Not quite, but almost."

"Oh my God," Phoebe said, hopping from the bed. She rushed past him, fleeing into the bathroom. She continued to mutter curses from her sanctuary.

Realizing he'd been left behind, he stared at the bathroom door then swiveled his head back to the bedroom door. As he shook his head, Jack stared pointedly at his crotch. Feeling a blush darkening his skin, he cleared his throat and tucked himself back into his jeans.

"You could knock," he said, deciding to go on offense.

Jack fell against the doorframe and crossed her arms. "You could turn your damn music off." Disgust flashed across her features. "I don't know what's more disturbing. Walking in on my brother just before he's fucking, or listening to my brother's fucking awful taste in music."

She pushed away from the door. Creeping towards him, she pointed to the bathroom. "I thought this was just an arrangement?"

He knew what she was asking, but he decided to play dumb. "What do you mean?"

"You and the nurse." She squinted and cocked her head. "You know, big brother, I never would have imagined you the type."

He lowered his gaze and pretended to brush something from his arm. "I assume you mean the marrying type. Well, there's always an--"

She shook her head. "No. I mean you being the type to game the system."

Ash stood straighter at that. Any trace of his lighter mood was now gone. "I'm not gaming the system."

"Aren't you?" She arched a brow. "Frank said you married the nurse just so you wouldn't have to pay her an actual wage."

"That's not true."

Jack placed her hands on her hips, then she rocked from one foot to another. "She also said that it was against the law. Military wise. I think that's the best part, ya know. My big brother, the law-abiding asshole, is breaking the law." She rubbed her hands together. "What would happen if the military found out?"

His heart dropped as he looked at his sister, seeing the glee in her eyes. He knew that she loved him, but he also knew that she carried a lot of resentment towards him. Especially since he'd reported her after the last time she'd stolen from him.

"Jacinda, you don't understand the situation."

"Oh, I think I understand enough." She tapped her fingers against her grinning lips. "I understand quite well." With another glance towards the bathroom, she pivoted on her heel and walked from the room.

Ash watched her go, weighing the threat in her words. He'd like to think she was just toying with him, and making him feel bad for the way he'd acted towards her. But she was unpredictable. Even when she was sober.

After a few moments, he strolled towards the bathroom and rapped his knuckles against the door. "You can come out now. She's gone." He stepped back when the door swung open and Phoebe's head appeared. She peeked into the bedroom, then shuffled out of her hiding place.

"Sorry." A grimace twisted her features as she walked to the bed and sat down. Tucking her hands between her legs, she looked at the open bedroom door. "Things have been rough while you were gone."

Ash narrowed his eyes. If he learned that Jack had been rude to his wife, he'd have her shit packed within an hour and her ass planted at the nearest bus station. "What did she do?"

Phoebe's head dropped to her chest. Her feet swung off the floor. "Nothing."

"Phoebe," he said. "What happened?"

She inhaled deeply and shook her head. "It's just been awkward and tense around the house."

Ash kicked his foot out to shut the door, then he walked to the nightstand and turned his phone off. He dropped onto the edge of the bed so they sat on opposite sides with their backs to each other.

"I'm sorry about that," he whispered. And, he truly was. He hadn't been here when Phoebe and Reggie had needed him the most. Jack may be sober, but she was prickly and difficult on her best day. "I'll make sure her visit is brief."

Phoebe snorted. With a touch of humor in her voice she said, "Too little. Too late."

For a moment, he pondered whether to tell her of Jack's subtle threat. But he knew his little Phoebe's eyes would grow solemn, and the sadness would once again cloak her. Biting his lip, he leaned forward to turn the light off and prayed he'd have the strength to keep his worries to himself.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

The next morning during breakfast there was a tense stand-off over the coffee maker. Phoebe watched Ash stare at Jack, who was squinting at the oddly quiet Reggie. Not understanding the source of the tension, Phoebe sat quietly at the kitchen table, buttering her toast.

"We'll only be gone a couple hours," said Jack as she poured milk into her coffee. She quickly glanced at the wall clock. "Four at the most."

Ash's mouth was twisted in disapproval. He gripped a ceramic mug and was tapping the handle with his fingernail. For several seconds, the clicking noise was the only sound in the kitchen. Then he cleared his throat, dropped his mug onto the kitchen island, and rested his hands on the counter.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

Phoebe flinched. She could hear the impatience in his voice, and she realized that he was holding onto his temper. She hadn't had many opportunities to see him upset. He was usually in a playful mood, but this morning, she could see finely-etched lines around his mouth and the bleakness in his eyes.

Jack lifted her mug and sipped slowly at her coffee. She stared quietly at Ash, then turned impertinent eyes in Phoebe's direction. "And here I was thinking I was doing you and your wife a solid. I figure you two might enjoy having the house to yourselves."

Phoebe opened her mouth to object, but she closed it quickly when Ash shot her a dark look. Battling the urge to flee the room, she untwisted the lid to the strawberry preserves, then slathered a glob onto her toast. As the quiet standoff resumed, she brought the toast to her mouth and bit down into it. The crisp sound drew three pairs of eyes in her direction.

"I'm sorry," she said, dropping the toast onto her plate. When she caught Reggie's gaze, Phoebe shrugged in confusion.

Reggie lifted her brows. "It's all right, Ash. Me and Jack got some things to sort out, I reckon. We'll go to a movie, then grab some lunch. It'll be okay."

Ash tapped his fingers against the counter, then pushed to stand at his full height. "You sure?"

Reggie nodded. "Of course I am. This'll be good for us."

"I promise to bring her back in one piece, Major." Jack smiled when Ash winced at the use of his rank. Turning to the sink, she placed her now empty mug into the basin. "I swear to you, if I don't have her back in four hours, then you can call the police."

"Jack." Ash had spoken, but in a voice that didn't sound like him. He dropped his head, then he looked at Phoebe. She, in turn, smiled in reassurance and nodded.

That didn't seem to placate him. Instead he reached out and yanked open a kitchen drawer. He pulled a notepad and pen from its interior, then quickly scribbled something. He ripped the paper from the pad and handed it to Reggie.

Reggie's eyes widened as she scanned the page, then she choked back laughter. With a wink, she turned on her heel and walked to her bedroom.

"What was that all about?" asked Jack, staring at Ash.

He shrugged. "Nothing." He turned away from Jack as if dismissing her from his mind. He looked at Phoebe and quirked his brows. "What about you and me? Wanna stay home, or do you want to go out?"

Before Phoebe could answer, Reggie left her room. She stood in the kitchen doorway and motioned to Jack. "You ready to go, Jacinda?"

"I fucking hate that name," Jack said.

Reggie grinned and took her niece's hand. "I know." As she pulled Jack through the door, Reggie called out, "We'll be back in a few hours. Enjoy yourselves."

Phoebe held her breath until she heard the front door slam. Then she exhaled and looked at Ash. He finally filled his coffee mug, then sauntered over to the kitchen table and sat down across from her.

So many questions swirled in her mind that she struggled to identify which one she should ask first. She debated it silently as she watched Ash pluck her toast from her plate and take a large bite.

"So, what did you write on the paper?" asked Phoebe.

She was mesmerized as she watched the darkness fade from Ash. During his exchange with Jack, his shoulders had been rigid and his face had seemed as if carved from stone. Now he looked like the lighthearted man she'd grown to love.

Ash smiled crookedly, then brushed the crumbs from his hands. "I asked Reggie if she was being kidnapped. Wink if she was going willingly. Blink if she was being taken."

She gaped at him. "Taken?" Laughter rattled in the back of her throat. "Wait a second. You think your sister would kidnap your aunt? What would she do with her? Is there a black market for elderly curmudgeons?"

He cocked his head to the side. "You haven't seen what I've seen."

"And you've seen these black markets, have you?" Phoebe guffawed. "And did you enjoy yourself?"

Ash rubbed the flats of his hands against the table. "You're ruining my moment."

Phoebe struggled to control her laughter. "I'm sorry, Ash."

"You didn't even let me discuss the particular set of skills I've--"

She erupted into laughter and threw her napkin at him. He caught it, then flipped it right back at her.

When she corralled her humor, she folded her arms on the table and leaned forward. "So, what's the deal between Reggie and Jack? I get the history between you and your sister, but there seems to be something deeper between them."

His amber eyes darkened and for a moment Phoebe feared the darkness was returning. But he simply fell against the back of his chair and wiped his hand over his mouth. "You picked up on that?"

Phoebe nodded. "I guess I have my own particular set of skills."

Ash grinned and waved a finger between them. "How about you show me yours and I'll show you mine?"

"Ash," Phoebe said, forcing a warning tone into her voice. "What's the story?"

Ash exhaled. "Me and Frank are closer in age, with two years separating us. Jack is nine years younger than me." His mouth twisted in a grimace, then he combed his fingers through his thick dark hair. "I was serving in the military and Frank was away at college by the time Jack was in high school. Unfortunately, she didn't have either one of us looking out for her, and Reggie was getting a bit too old to keep up with a rebellious teen."

"I take it Jack started using drugs in high school?" Phoebe knew this story. It sounded very much like her mother's.

Ash nodded. "Back then, it was just pot. And to be honest, that didn't bother me so much. It was later, after high school, that she got into a pretty bad car accident. They gave her pain medication while she was recovering, and by the time all of her injuries were healed, she was completely addicted."

Phoebe was beginning to understand. "I guess when Jack's prescription ran out, she started to take Reggie's?"

"Bingo," said Ash. He took a couple of sips of his coffee. "So there's Reggie, needing her pain medication, and she was running through it too quickly. She realized that Jack was stealing from her, but Reggie didn't want to get her in trouble." He laughed. "You know cuz she ain't no snitch and all." The smile faded from his lips. "They kept on that way for a long while until Jack needed more. I guess Reggie tried to get her help, but Jack wanted none of it. Things just spiraled out of control until one day when Reggie tried to keep her pills away from Jack, and Jack"--he bit his lip, then shook his head--"didn't take that too kindly. She was in need of a fix, and Reggie wasn't filling it. So, she hit Reggie and Reggie fell."

Phoebe closed her eyes, trying to block out the image of a vulnerable Reggie trying to fight off her young niece. During her years as a caregiver, she'd heard stories of patients being exploited by the people charged with caring for them. Rage flowed through her as she thought about Reggie being used by someone she'd loved and cared for.

Ash tapped on the table as if trying to gain her attention. When she looked into his eyes, he smiled sadly. "I'd like to think that Jack wouldn't do such a thing again."

"We should call them back," said Phoebe.

Ash shook his head. "No. I think they're fine. Jack was a spoiled brat back then, and she's come a long way. I really don't think she'll put her hands on Reggie again, but I'm not so confident that she won't relapse."

"I'm so sorry."

Ash smiled. "Well, we've only got three hours left." He lowered his voice and waggled his brows. "There's something I want from you."

Phoebe felt anticipation blossom within her. "And what exactly do you want from me?"

"Cookies," he said, batting his long lashes, "I need your cookies."

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Six hours later, Reggie and Jack had yet to return. Reclining against his pillows with a plate of cookies perched on his stomach, Ash gently traced circles on Phoebe's back. Her head was buried beneath her pillow, and tendrils of her long hair blanketed her shoulders. She hadn't fallen asleep like that. Ash had placed the pillow on her head when she began to snore.

He was nibbling on his fourth cookie when he heard a car pull into the driveway. He removed the plate from his belly and placed it on the nightstand. Brushing the crumbs from his chest, he rolled from the bed and grabbed his jeans. As he pulled them up his legs, he looked back at Phoebe and noticed she hadn't stirred.

Her snoring had stopped. Torn between storming downstairs to confront Jack and his concern that he may have smothered his wife, he climbed onto the bed to listen for her breathing. After a few seconds, he grew impatient, so he reared back his hand and smacked her bare bottom.

Phoebe bolted upward, sending the pillow flying over the side of the bed. She twisted from one direction to another before flipping onto her back with her white teeth bared.

"I promise you, I'm going to make you the best meatloaf ever." With a grumpy look on her face, Phoebe climbed from the bed and stalked him. She stopped right in front of him with her hands perched on her hips and her dark eyes narrowed into slits. "In fact, it may just be your last meatloaf."

Ash couldn't help himself. He bent forward to peck the end of her nose. "You are so adorable."

"I'm pissed off." She curled her hand into a tiny fist.

He opened his mouth to utter another condescending comment when he heard the front door open. Tapping his finger against her lips, he cocked his head towards the bedroom door. "They're home."

She twitched, likely from anger. Her lips disappeared into a thin line, and he could sense she was listening keenly. Then she finally released a sigh, her anger apparently dissipated.

"Later," she said, leaning onto her toes and pointing her finger at his face.

As much as he would have liked to stay and make that later into now, he grabbed her leggings from the floor and thrust them into her arms. "Get dressed. I'm gonna need backup."

He was turning to leave the room when he felt her grab his arm. He stared down at her grip, then brought his gaze to her face.

Phoebe positioned herself before him, removing her hand from his arm. Then she took his face between her palms and brushed her lips across his. He reeled as if he'd been kicked in the stomach.

They'd kissed many times, and she frequently gave him casual pecks just like this. But as the warmth of her hands seeped into his skin and he felt the tenderness in her kiss, he acknowledged there was no going back from this. Sometime over the last few weeks, their fake marriage had evolved into a real one. He'd made an agreement for a long-term yet temporary arrangement, but he realized now that he was never letting her go.

She was his Phoebe. His wife. His friend. His lover. His helpmate. And most important of all, his cookie-maker.

As sure as he was of their future, he didn't know if she'd had the same epiphany. Biting his tongue, he rubbed her arms before stepping away. "It's quiet downstairs. I wonder who made it back."

He heard her strangled laughter as he stepped from their bedroom and closed the door behind him. He walked down the hallway and trotted down the stairs. As he reached the bottom step, he found Jack standing quietly in the dark living room.

His pace slowed as he walked to the light switch and illuminated the room. "Where's Reggie?"

"We ran into some friends of yours," Jack said.

He was about to repeat his question when he felt a presence behind him. Expecting to see Reggie, he leapt in surprise when he found the Chaplain's wife standing there.

"Olivia," he said in genuine surprise. At just that moment, Phoebe came running down the stairs, shock in her eyes. He stifled a grin when she began to adjust her clothing, as if fearing the Chaplain's wife would suspect what they had been doing. "You have to excuse us. My wife and I were rearranging furniture upstairs."

There was no discernible change in Olivia's features. Instead she stepped to the side and motioned to the kitchen. "I hope you don't mind this impromptu visit, but I've been meaning to contact you. Imagine my surprise when I ran into your aunt"--Olivia pointed at Jack--"and your sister while leaving the theater. I mentioned to Reggie that I was planning a luncheon for the officers' wives and asked that she relay an invite to your wife, but your sister invited me to come ask you myself." She stood still for a moment, then as if she realized how odd she must have appeared, she forced a tight smile.

Under any other circumstances, Ash would have politely excused himself, leaving Phoebe to make her own excuses. But when he looked at his sister and noticed a slight curve to her lips, his heart dropped. He looked back at Olivia and studied her body language. He couldn't detect anything unusual; she was simply an unusual woman.

Ash shifted so he could lift a hand in Phoebe's direction. He quirked a brow, hoping she read the message there. She must have, because she placed her hand into his and leaned against him. She even managed to stare adoringly into his face.

He brushed a kiss across her brow, ignored Jack's audible hiss, then wrapped his arm about Phoebe's waist. "You know we really need to get Reggie into physical therapy. We found someone in the past, but she just didn't work out. I would hate to make any commitment while we're trying to sort this out."

Olivia looked at him, then shifted her gaze to Phoebe. "I think one little luncheon won't disrupt your schedule, particularly when it's this Thursday." She smiled again, this time with a bit more warmth. "The other wives have been asking about Phoebe. They were just as surprised as I was that you were in such a committed relationship."

Jack decided to remind everyone she was in the room. She approached Olivia with an ornery smile on her face. "Oh, believe me when I say, it was a surprise to us all."

Ash fought the urge to tighten his jaw. Instead, he only tightened his hold around Phoebe. "What can I say? It was a whirlwind romance."

"Are you staying for dinner?"

Phoebe stiffened under his arm when they heard Reggie's voice. He pulled his arm away, and Phoebe turned to greet Reggie.

"Did you have a nice afternoon?" she asked.

Reggie shrugged her shoulders. "It certainly wasn't the Houston Review, I promise you that." With her eyes pinned on Olivia, Reggie moved to stand between Ash and Phoebe. "It's getting late, and I need my medication. The doctor says I need to eat when I take my meds, so I'll ask again, are you staying for dinner?"

Ash watched as Olivia blinked a few times, then she shook her head. He felt like doing a somersault because her unexpected visit was coming to an end.

"I need to get back home. My husband's making us eggplant parmesan." She smiled at Ash. "It's his best dish. We'll have to invite you all over for dinner sometime. You, your wife, your aunt"--she glanced at Jack--"and your sister. Won't that be lovely."

"Awesome," said Jack. She walked to Phoebe's side and rested a hand on Phoebe's shoulder. "I can't wait to tell you all about these lovebirds."

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

The next morning, Phoebe busied herself by tiding up the bedroom she now shared with Ash. Cleaning helped to distract her from the uneasiness she still felt from Olivia's brief visit. Olivia obviously disliked her, and Jack seemed up to no good.

Phoebe's unease had her thinking something lurked behind her. She glanced over her shoulder and caught a subtle movement. Leaping in surprise, she turned to find Jack standing in the doorway. Jack held a piece of paper that she was using to fan herself.

"I have a secret," Jack said.

Phoebe snapped the pillowcase in her hand, trying to ignore the threat in her sister-in-law's voice. "Have you heard from Ash? I thought he and Reggie would be back by now. They were just going to the store to pick up--"

She stopped abruptly when Jack stepped closer. "You're not going to intimidate me, Jack. You and Ash have a difficult history, I know, but I'd like for you and me to build our own relationship."

"Why?" Jack asked, fanning herself again.

Phoebe licked her lips and glanced at the clock. Her mother had been an addict, and she'd died far too young. It had taken years, but Phoebe had finally managed to forgive her mother for abandoning her.

She didn't want her relationship with Jack to be tarnished by her own prejudices. She could be aware of Jack's history, but she could be open to getting to know her, too. It was something she'd liked to have done with her mother, but she'd never gotten the chance.

"Okay," Phoebe said, smoothing out the edges of the comforter. "You know the reasons why Ash and I married, but I want you to also know that I care about him. And, I care about Reggie."

The smug look left Jack's eyes as she stared back at Phoebe. Then she folded her arms over her chest and shifted her weight. "You care about Reggie?"

Phoebe nodded. "I do. A lot. I never had an aunt or a grandma. She's like both to me." She smiled. "When she's in the mood to be, that is." She waited for a softening from Jack, but when none came, Phoebe studied her face. All she saw was anger.

"Did you know Ash could face up to five years in prison for marrying you?" Jack rocked on her heels. "It seems they don't take too kindly to folks trying to game the system."

Phoebe knew that he could get in trouble, but she hadn't realized it would mean jail. "I didn't know that. I just thought he would be fired or something."

"Fired?" Jack shook her head. "They don't do that with the military, honey. No. He could be court-martialed. Do you know what that means? It means more than a simple firing. He'd lose all his benefits. And he'd have a fucking hard time finding another job. No one hires someone with a dishonorable discharge."

Phoebe's knees buckled beneath her. She collapsed onto the corner of the bed and dropped her head into her hands. Prison? A court-martial? Why would Ash risk so much?

Releasing a heavy breath, she dropped her hands from her face and looked up at Jack. Words formed in her mind, but they got caught on her tongue. She was dumbfounded as she considered the trouble they faced.

Jack seemed pleased by Phoebe's reaction. She hoisted the paper and waved it. "Do you know what this is?"

Phoebe shook her head.

Jack licked her lips but before she could speak, the sound of Ash's truck pulling into the driveway filled the room. Phoebe pushed away from the bed and brushed past Jack. She skipped down the stairs, making it to the living room just as Ash walked into the house.

A wide grin flashed across his face, revealing his dimples. His eyes shone with merriment as he held the door for Reggie.

"Reggie, do you think Phoebe looks thrilled to see me?" he asked, a teasing note to his voice. A slight smile lingered on Reggie's lips, but faded away as she studied Phoebe's face.

Phoebe knew she must look as pale as a ghost. She still struggled to find the right words. Her gaze flickered in the direction of the stairway, and she heard a deep grunt escape Reggie.

"Jack's at it again," Reggie said.

The groceries that Ash held dropped to the floor. A dark look crossed his features, and he glanced towards the stairs as Jack came pounding down them. When his sister joined them in the living room, he looked at Phoebe then turned his bright eyes toward Jack.

"What have you--" he began.

"Why didn't you tell me you could be imprisoned?" Phoebe asked.

For a moment, Ash stood still. Then he bit his lip before turning his gaze in Phoebe's direction. "Honestly, I don't think it would come to that."

"And a court-martial?" Phoebe watched the emotions flicker across his features. "Why would you risk your career? Your reputation?"

Ash tightened his jaw, then he lowered his eyes. "I already explained it to you. I did it for Reggie."

"You didn't explain it all to me. The risks..." Then another thought popped into her mind. A purely selfish one that she knew needed to be addressed. "What about me? Could I be imprisoned?"

"No." There was finality in that simple word. "You won't face any trouble. If we're caught"--he shot another dark look in Jack's direction--"then I lose everything. I won't get my retirement benefits, and you won't get your college paid for." He curled his fingers into a ball, then released them before approaching her. He took her hands into his and squeezed them. "But I don't think it'll happen. They don't have proof--"

"Proof?" Jack asked, stepping forward.

Phoebe felt the rage roll through Ash. She studied his face, noting the tension around his mouth. She was pissed, but he was on a totally different level.

"Proof? What type of proof do they need?" Phoebe asked.

Jack laughed, then snapped the paper that she still held in her hand. "I imagine it looks something like this." She flipped the page towards Phoebe, allowing her to see what was written on the document. It was the prenuptial agreement drawn up by Ash's attorney. Not only did it detail the benefits Phoebe would receive, but it also specified the length of their contract marriage.

Ash clicked his tongue. "Still rummaging through my things, I see."

Folding the prenup, Jack sniffed and shrugged. "I guess old habits die hard."

"That'll make you happy, right?" Ash asked Jack. "To see me kicked out of the military. But if you do that, you're not only punishing me. You're also punishing them." He nodded his head in the direction of Phoebe and Reggie.

"God damn it, you two," said Reggie. She'd stood quietly, observing the scene between Jack, Phoebe, and Ash. She threw her hands up in exasperation, then stomped right up to Jack. "Girl, you and I both know you're full of shit. And you," she added, pointing at Ash, "I can't believe such a smart boy could be so dumb." Her blazing eyes turned to Phoebe. "You ain't got nothin' to worry about except dealin' with these two. They're so caught up in hurting each other, that they don't realize what's obvious for the world to see."

Phoebe looked at Jack, who returned her gaze. She felt Ash's eyes on her, but she wasn't ready to look at him. She felt guilty for being a part of this. "Maybe we should get a divorce."

Both Ash and Reggie said, "No."

"We could undo it all." Phoebe turned to Jack. "I don't want him to lose it all, okay? I didn't understand how serious this was."

"Oh for fuck's sakes." Reggie pointed at Phoebe then Ash. "You two deserve each other." She turned to Jack. "And there ain't a damn thing Jacinda can do to prove otherwise."

Jack waved the prenup.

Reggie snatched the paper from her hand and promptly ripped it to shreds. For good measure, she tossed it into the air like confetti. "Those two love each other, and ain't no one gonna say otherwise." She stepped to Jack. "Ain't that right, Jacinda?"

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

As Ash watched Phoebe cradle her sister's ugly hat against her chest, his heart shattered into a thousand pieces. She was crying softly, barely making a sound. If it hadn't been for her shifting weight on the mattress, he probably wouldn't have woken up from his sound sleep.

He tossed the covers from his body. She stiffened in reaction, then turned to face him. Half her face was illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the blinds.

He crawled across the bed, eliminating the gulf between them, then he took the ugly knit hat into his fingers and wrestled it from her grasp. "You don't need this."

"It makes me feel better."

Ash placed his hand at the back of her head and pulled her closer, so he could brush his lips across her forehead. Then he shifted away and whisked a falling tear from her cheek. "Really? Because all I see is misery."

He knew she was worried about Jack and their meeting with Olivia. At first, he'd been worried, too, but then he let Reggie's words penetrate his anger, and he finally realized he had nothing to worry about. Not because he thought it would be hard for Jack to prove their contract marriage now that the prenup was gone, but because theirs wasn't a fake marriage. Not anymore.

"Olivia hates me," Phoebe whispered.

He tried not to nod. "She hates everyone."

Phoebe pulled away and stared into his eyes. He hated to see the return of the solemnness. He'd thought he'd banished it a long time ago.

"Jack hates me," she said.

This time, he shook his head. "No. She hates me." And perhaps Jack had good reason to. There were times when he told himself that he was being too hard on her. That he should give her a chance to prove herself. But then he'd remember a time when she did something to hurt him or Reggie, and that brief spark of sympathy would die.

But everyone was capable of change. He understood that now. He'd become a changed man himself, discovering that he actually enjoyed being married. He liked coming home to the same woman--his Phoebe--every day and seeing her dark eyes twinkle with welcome.

"I'm sorry." Ash didn't elaborate on his apology. He wasn't apologizing for dragging Phoebe into this mess. That would be like saying he was sorry to have met her, and he didn't feel that way at all. No, he felt sorry for causing her pain when all he wanted to do was make her laugh and smile.

She looked at him with her bright red nose and blotchy face, and he didn't think he'd seen anyone more beautiful. "You're my wife."

She nodded. "I know."

Ash smiled. "I don't think you understand." He took her chin between his fingers and lifted her face. "You're my wife. Mine." He brushed his lips across hers. "There's nothing Jack can say that'll change that."

"What about the contract?"

He grinned. "It's gone."

"That doesn't worry you?" She cocked her head.

Rolling his eyes, Ash dropped his hand and scooted away from her. He plumped his pillow, before laying back down on his side of the bed. Then he extended his hand and beckoned her to join him. "I'm not worried."

"I am." She remained at the corner for a few moments longer. Then she released a heavy sigh as she shifted onto the bed and crawled to where he rested. She rested her head on his chest and wrapped her arm around his waist.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and kissed the top of her head. "If I go to prison, do you promise to smuggle in some cookies?"

"Jesus," Phoebe said, swatting his chest. "Do you have to joke about everything?"

"There is humor in everything."

The darkness shielded her features, but he knew she glared at him. "No. Really, there isn't."

"I beg to differ."

She was quiet for a moment. "I was serious about a divorce."

"I was serious about saying no."

She shifted her face so that her chin dug into his chest. "There's been a change of plans. I'll continue to care for Reggie and--"

"No," he said. Ash knew she worried about him and his career. But he also knew that they had nothing to fear. Not really. Not anymore. "There won't be a divorce. Not now. Not ever."

She stiffened. "But--"

He was tired of talking. Shifting his weight, he flipped her onto her back. He hovered over her, feeling the tip of his nose caress her cheek. "You and me, we're alike in some ways. We both avoid commitment. I never wanted a long-term relationship."

"I always wanted one," she countered.

"Yet, you told me that I was your first actual relationship." He kissed her chin. "We've both tried to convince ourselves that our career goals meant more to us than love."

She was still for a moment, but then he felt a slight nod.

"I can agree with that."

"And we're both dedicated to our families."

She nodded again. "True."

He lowered his face to place his lips across hers. Her tongue flicked out to graze his bottom lip. For a moment, he felt robbed of breath as he felt her soften beneath him.

"And we never sought real relationships," he said as he tugged her nightgown up her thighs, "because we were waiting for each other."

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Phoebe turned her back and pointed at her zipper. "Can you zip me up?" She waited to hear Ash's approach. When she finally felt him behind her, she stood straighter and dropped her hands to her side. "What do you think about this dress? I bought it yesterday."

"It's lovely," he said.

She expected him to make quick work of the zipper. But he had other plans. She felt him trace a finger over her skin, then caress his way up to her bra strap. She arched away and glanced over her shoulder.

"No," she said sternly. "You are not going to make me late."

Ash approached her, and she retreated until her back was pressed against the wall. Placing his hands on the wall, he lowered his face to hers. He was so close that she could feel his warm breath on her lips.

"Why don't you just call and cancel? You can tell them you're not feeling well."

She shook her head. "They'll think I'm pregnant."

He grinned. "Okay. Tell them I'm not feeling well, and you have to stay home to take care of me."

Phoebe twisted her mouth and stared into his gleaming eyes. Even though his plan sounded tempting, she knew she couldn't back out of the lunch. It would be yet another reason for Olivia to hate her.

So Phoebe grasped the front of his shirt and pulled him closer. She then leaned into him, wrapped her arms around his waist, and slid her hands into the back pockets of his jeans.

It was the wrong thing to do. Ash's hands landed on her thighs and slid under her dress as he dropped his head. "You're giving me mixed signals, Phoebe. Are you staying or are you going?"

She didn't answer. She slanted her head and traced her tongue along his bottom lip. In response, he nudged against her, forcing her legs apart. She itched to wrap them around his waist, but she controlled herself. It wasn't the right time for a quickie, but she would indulge herself with this kiss.

Ash took the tip of her tongue between his teeth. She could see the humor lingering in the depths of his eyes. Then he released her and placed his lips across hers. She could feel his heart thudding in his chest.

Her resolve was softening, and that realization had her pulling away from the kiss. She lifted her hand and checked the time on her watch. It was fifteen past eleven, and if they didn't leave now, they would arrive late for the lunch.

Ash must have felt her withdrawal. He leaned away just enough to stare down at her face. "You're seriously going?"

"Yes," she said, squeezing out from his embrace. Clearing her throat, she walked to the mirror and checked her appearance. They'd tousled her chignon, and there were noticeable wrinkles on the front of her dress.

"You have nothing to worry about," he said quietly. "We have nothing to hide. We're a happily married couple who just can't keep their hands off each other."

She truly wanted to believe him. But she knew that anger still simmered within Jack. "I hope this doesn't go past two hours."

"It shouldn't," he said, coming to stand behind her. He placed his hands on her waist and rested his head on her shoulder. "Many of them are housewives with kids. They try to make the lunches short so the moms can get back home."

"It sounds so old-fashioned." She turned in his arms. "I don't think I'm going to fit in."

He cocked his head. "I think you will." Then he glanced away, and a flash of impatience flitted over his features. When he looked back at her, there was a serious expression on his face. "They're bound to ask you how we met. Just tell them we met online."

Phoebe furrowed her brow. "Okay."

"If they ask for any specifics about our--um--courtship, just tell them we exchanged emails and chatted through videos before we actually met up." He licked his lips. "Also, you might want to mention you're head-over-heels in love with me. You know, just for added dramatic effect."

Phoebe felt her heart skip a beat. Last night, he'd said they'd been waiting for each other, and she believed him. But he'd yet to tell her that he loved her, and she'd wondered if he ever would.

She studied his face, noting the agitation he tried to hide. She took his hand into hers and squeezed. "I promise not to give them a reason to doubt our relationship."

He gave her a ghost of a smile. "Jack may make things difficult, but you have nothing to worry about. You and me, we got this. Understand?" He lifted their clasped hands and brushed a kiss across her fingertips. "Just be yourself and they'll love you just as much as I do."

She heard the words. She felt him stiffen against her. She saw the shock darken his eyes.

Phoebe was silent for a moment as she processed the words, turning them over and over in her mind. Had he meant that he truly loved her, or was he just trying to reassure her? And was he now trying to think of a way to extract himself?

She didn't have a chance to ask him. Ash dropped her hand, stepped back, then pointed at the bedroom door. "You better get going. I'm afraid you're gonna be late." And with that, he smiled again and walked away.

Acknowledging that they were running behind, Phoebe bolted from the room and trotted down the stairs. When she reached the bottom, she noticed that Reggie and Jack sat quietly in the living room.

Upon seeing her, Jack pushed out of her chair. Her eyes scanned Phoebe's dress, then she turned to motion to Reggie. "I guess we're finally ready to go."

Phoebe flinched. "I'm sorry that we're late. Ash and I were talking upstairs."

"Talking?" Jack asked, arching a brow.

Reggie shot her niece a look from the corner of her eye. Then she shuffled to Phoebe's side and lowered her voice. "She's in a peculiar mood today." She lifted her brows. "And that's saying somethin'."

Phoebe nodded. Ash said he wasn't worried, but she was. What were Jack's true intentions? Would Olivia believe her?

"C'mon, we better be going," Phoebe said, opening the front door. She stood back, allowing Reggie ample room to shuffle past with her cane. Phoebe stood still as Jack walked past her with her lips puckered.

They were silent during the twenty-minute drive. They reached the Officer's Club a few minutes after twelve, but Phoebe was relieved to see that others were just arriving as well. She drove her beater into one of the parking spots, then cringed when a group of wives looked and pointed in their direction.

"You better convince Ash to get you a new car," Reggie said, turning to look at Phoebe. Her eyes twinkled with humor. "I'm sure if you tell him that this piece of shit is a poor reflection of him as a husband, he'll get you a nice sedan."

Shaking her head, Phoebe opened her door and climbed out. She walked around the car, avoiding the looks of the other wives, and approached Reggie's door. She pulled the handle, but it wouldn't open. She checked that the door was unlocked, and it was. She tried again, but the door remained stuck. Tucking her head against her chest, she lurched on the handle until the door finally creaked open.

Phoebe blocked out the sound of giggles behind her. She took hold of Reggie's hand and helped her from the car. She then looked over the car roof to check on Jack.

Her sister-in-law had safely exited the vehicle, and she was standing beside the car with an apprehensive look on her face. Once again, Phoebe wondered at Jack's motives. And when Jack glanced in her direction, Phoebe knew she was unable to hide the fear in her eyes.

What Jack saw in her expression seemed to embolden her. She tossed her head, then left the side of the vehicle. She stepped onto the sidewalk where a group of wives had gathered to chat.

Distantly, Phoebe could hear Jack introducing herself. She wanted to implant herself in the conversation, but she was still helping Reggie out of the car. Once Reggie leaned onto her cane, Phoebe finally stepped towards the group. From the corner of her eye, she continued to watch Reggie's progress, but she also made an effort to introduce herself.

"Hello," she said, waving to the group. "I'm sorry we're late. I'm afraid I lost track of time."

One of the women stepped forward. Her brown eyes were warm and a soft smile curled her lips. She extended a hand. "I'm Traniece McDonald. You must be Phoebe. Coop's wife."

Phoebe took her hand into hers. She studied Traniece's face and saw genuine friendliness there. "It's nice to meet you." She glanced at the group. "I feel like I'm at a disadvantage."

One by one, the others stepped forward to introduce themselves. Just when Phoebe felt safe that she'd inserted herself into the conversation, she noticed Jack break away and walk into the club. Phoebe's heart flopped in her chest, and she felt like running to catch up with her.

But then she felt a presence beside her and realized that Reggie was standing there. Phoebe motioned to Reggie. "And this is my husband's great-aunt. Reggie, I would like you to meet Traniece, Mina, and Elsa."

Reggie inclined her head. "Nice to meet you."

Polite chatter arose around her as Phoebe continued to look towards the door. When she couldn't take it anymore, she tapped Reggie's arm. "We should be getting inside."

Together the group walked into the Officer's Club. Phoebe glanced around the interior, struck by the formal decorations. She and Reggie followed the others as they made their way to a large banquet room.

"Phoebe!"

She turned in the direction of the voice and found Olivia waving at her. She was standing with other women, and she did not step forward. Instead, she pointed at the nearest table. "There's a name card for each seat."

Phoebe nodded in understanding. Then she took hold of Reggie's arm and went in search of their seats. When she found them, she was surprised not to find Jack at the table. She looked around the room, searching for Jack's distinctive hair color, but she didn't see her.

Jack was still absent when a woman went to the podium at the front of the room and welcomed the attendees. Distractedly, Phoebe followed all the social cues. She clapped when necessary, laughed when expected, and sat quietly when needed.

Several minutes passed before Jack arrived at the table. Olivia had been sitting at the center table, so Phoebe knew that Jack hadn't been chatting with her. Phoebe studied Jack's features, noticing redness around her eyes.

Her sister-in-law looked disengaged, as if she wasn't fully there. Phoebe was still looking at her when Olivia came to their table. Beside her was a thin woman with perfectly coiffed hair.

"Phoebe, this is Mrs. Shields. She's married to General Shields." Olivia inclined her head towards Phoebe. "This is Major Cooper's new bride."

Feeling sheepish, Phoebe pushed from her chair and nudged Reggie to do the same. When Reggie simply glared in response, Phoebe ignored her and glanced in Jack's direction. Her sister-in-law's head was ducked as she tapped away on her cellphone. Then, Phoebe forced a smile on her lips and extended her hand towards the General's wife. "Hello. I'm Phoebe."

There was a polite yet distant look on Mrs. Shield's face as she took Phoebe's hand. "I've heard a few whispers about you." She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Major Cooper is infamous around these parts, particularly when it comes to his love life."

"He's brought a different date to every function," Olivia added conspiratorially.

Mrs. Shields nodded. "Oh, yes. Some more memorable than others." She looked close to laughing now, which seemed to surprise Olivia. Then the humor faded from Mrs. Shield's face and she pinned Phoebe with a stern look. "We were all stunned to learn that he'd married."

Phoebe felt sweat gather at her lower back. She grabbed the skirt of her dress and twisted the fabric between her fingers. "Believe me when I say that I'm the most surprised--I mean--things just happened quickly between us."

"When it's love, it's love," added Reggie.

Phoebe looked in her direction and caught Reggie's encouraging smile. Feeling reassured, Phoebe grinned and released her dress. "I won't say it was love at first sight, but it was certainly sudden. After getting to know him, I realized that he was my future." At least, she would certainly like him to be her future. They'd come to a temporary agreement, but she didn't think she could walk away after five years. Certainly not without trying to make it permanent.

Mrs. Shields turned to Jack. She lifted her brows in an inquiring manner. "I'm sorry. Have we met?"

"No," Jack said, extending her hand. "I'm Major Cooper's sister."

"Ah," said Mrs. Shields. The General's wife shifted her weight from one foot to another while she scanned the dining room. "Well, I hope you are enjoying yourself."

"I am, ma'am."

Phoebe couldn't help but notice how differently Olivia behaved around Mrs. Shields. She acted deferential, as if Mrs. Shields was in command. Perhaps she was. Phoebe continued to struggle with the intricacies of military life.

"Please tell me," Olivia said, leaning onto the back of Jack's chair. "Were you just as surprised as the rest of us to learn that your brother had finally settled down?"

This was the moment Phoebe dreaded. Her breath grew shallow, and she saw spots. Turning away from Olivia and Jack, Phoebe settled her gaze on Reggie who looked on with only slight interest.

"I think we were all surprised to learn that Ash had fallen in love." Phoebe looked back at Jack and found the younger woman staring at her. Jack shrugged then looked at Olivia. "But, I have to admit, I've never seen him happier than he is with Phoebe. I think he's very lucky to have found her."

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Ash had lied--he was worried. He didn't like to worry. With his hands clasped behind his back, he strolled into the Officer's Club as if it was a normal day.

He walked to the room where the luncheon was being held. He grinned broadly when he heard excited whispers fill the crowded space. It wasn't totally unexpected that a husband showed up for a luncheon, but everyone knew that he avoided them like the plague.

"Coop?" called out Ottinger. Ash released a heavy breath, then he turned to greet the colonel, who was grinning from ear to ear. "I never thought I'd see you step foot in one of these things."

"Believe me, neither did I," Ash muttered. Glancing around the room, he asked, "Have you seen my wife?"

Ottinger still seemed to be in shock. With his mouth hanging open a tad, he nodded and pointed towards a row of windows. "She's over there near the door prizes."

"Thanks," Ash said, walking away. He scanned the room for Phoebe's dark hair, ignoring the amused and curious glances shot his way. Instead of finding his wife, he caught sight of Reggie waving her cane in the air. He waved back, then made his way to where she stood.

"How was the lunch?" he asked.

Reggie sucked on her teeth as he approached. "Those fuckers served meatloaf."

He grimaced. "Not here, Reggie."

"Whatever," she said, brushing aside his comment. "I ain't doin' this again." She walked past him, right to the door. "I'll be outside." She pulled a pack of cigarettes from her purse. "Take your time."

He turned to watch Reggie's escape and caught Jack lurking in the shadows. She tossed him the bird, then turned on her heel and followed Reggie. She tried to grab Reggie's elbow, but Reggie pulled back and shooed Jack away. He continued to watch as the two of them walked out of the building, fighting for control of Reggie's cigarettes.

"Hey, Coop!" a woman called out.

"Hi, Major," said another.

He nodded in their direction, but he didn't stop his search for Phoebe. He finally found her sitting in a chair in a corner. She held her beige pumps in her lap and she was curling and uncurling her toes. Feeling his world collapse around him, he knelt beside her and waited for her gaze to land on him.

When it did, he noted the solemnness in the depths of her eyes. "That bad?" he asked.

"Terrible," she said, bending over to brush a bug away from her right foot. Then she pulled her foot onto her knee and rubbed her heel. "I don't think I'll be wearing these again."

Ash looked at Phoebe, truly looked at her. There was no panic in her features. No anger twisting her mouth. He looked down at her shoes and realized her comment was about the state of her feet.

"C'mere," he said, motioning towards her leg. He waited as she swung her feet onto his lap, then he took her foot into his hands and began to knead. He could feel a crowd of women gathering around them. He fought the urge to snatch her up and run from the room. Instead, he lowered his voice, "I take it Jack kept her mouth shut."

Phoebe smiled. "More or less."

He stopped his massage to glare at her. "What did she say exactly?"

"Exactly?" she asked.

"Yep."

Phoebe grinned, and he couldn't help but fall deeply into her dark eyes. When she pointed down at her foot, he was eager to comply with her silent command. Resuming his massage, he waited for her to continue.

"Jack said you were lucky to have found me."

He must have squeezed too hard because Phoebe grimaced. "Sorry."

She shrugged a shoulder, then pulled her foot from his hands.

"Did she really say that?" he asked, pushing up from his knees.

Phoebe slid to the edge of her chair and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Then he stood to his full height, drawing her to her feet. She returned his stare for a moment before dropping her gaze.

With her head pressed into his chest, she murmured something low. He couldn't make out the words, so he placed a finger beneath her chin and nudged her face.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I didn't catch what you said."

Phoebe licked her lips, then took a deep breath. "I said that I love you."

Ash felt like he could just melt into the floor. He studied her eyes, waiting for her to say that she was only joking. When she didn't, he felt a smile blossom on his face.

"I thought you barely tolerated me."

She smiled. "Sometimes I don't."

"Don't love me?"

Phoebe laughed. "No, knucklehead. Sometimes I don't tolerate you." She turned away and exhaled loudly. "But I think--no, I know--that I'll always love you."

He chuckled, then felt her hands grip his chin and turn his face towards hers. It was a crowded room, but he felt the others fade away as he stared at his Phoebe.

"Did you mean what you said earlier?" she asked.

Earlier, he'd hoped she hadn't noticed his little slip of the tongue. But now he realized it was probably the greatest mistake in his entire life. "That I loved you?"

She nodded.

"No," he said quickly. "I just love your cookies."

"Today is definitely one of those days that I barely tolerate you."

He threw back his head and laughed. Then he grabbed her hand, weaved their fingers together, and rested their hands against his heart. "I love you, Phoebe Cooper."

"Oh my God," said a woman, "they are so cute."

"I never thought I'd see it," said a masculine voice. "Our Coop's done fallen in love."

Phoebe's wide lips parted in a happy smile. She brought her other hand up and traced his lips with the tip of her finger. "I hope you meant what you said. That this is no longer temporary."

He shook his head. "Sorry, babe, you're stuck with me."

"Good."

Feeling the need to leave the room, Ash stepped back and offered her a hand. She placed her hand in his, and he pulled her alongside him. But, from the corner of his eye, he saw her grimace.

"Ah," he said, stooping to place an arm behind her back and knees. As he hoisted her into his arms, he heard several loud gasps from around the room. "I think I can help you with that."

Phoebe wrapped her arms around his neck and dropped her forehead against his. "Ash..."

"Yes?"

"One more thing."

He pulled his head away. His gaze drifted down her body before settling on her belly. "You're pregnant?"

She gasped. "No. I'm not."

"Oh." He felt slightly disappointed. Then he remembered how babies were made, and he felt his good mood return tenfold. As he carried her from the room, he nodded in Olivia's direction. He was surprised to see approval on her face. "Then, what's wrong?"

With laughter in her eyes, Phoebe pointed towards the parking lot. "I need a new car."

SL Beabhar is the romance pen name for author Siobhan Beabhar.

To learn more about upcoming romance novel releases, please join her mailing list:

http://eepurl.com/cWeEtj

The following is a sample from Siobhan Beabhar’s novel:

Siúil A Rún

To purchase, you can find it on Amazon at:

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01N1F1WF6

Friday, 17 December, 1915

Ballingeary, County Cork, Ireland

As snow shrouded the small village of Béal Átha an Ghaorthaidh, Kady Murphy sulked in the shadows of the church’s community hall. She cringed as sweat gathered at the small of her back and made her cotton underthings cling to her skin. The room was almost unbearably warm as young women like Kady gathered to make their debut during the village's annual matchmaking event.

Feeling faint, Kady breathed deeply and was immediately overwhelmed with the pungent smell of perspiration mingled with the cloying scent of cloves and cinnamon. The old, wooden floorboards wavered beneath her feet as the exuberant dancers stomped across the floor. The reverberations bounced against the stone walls, and the vibrations reminded Kady of the cadence of marching soldiers.

Unlike previous celebrations when she laughed and gossiped with her friends and neighbors, her mood was bittersweet.

Mourning parents anchored many of the tables, reminiscing about their sons who had left to fight but would never return. The surviving young men—most wearing their new 16th Division uniforms—stood morosely, too preoccupied with thoughts of war and death to notice the shy glances Kady’s friends and former classmates sent their way. From the edges of the dance floor, the other finely-dressed young women smiled hopefully, clearly eager to dance with the handsome lads, seemingly unaware that being unmarried was the least of their worries.

Kady wished she could crawl beneath the building and hide. Ignoring Tobias Monahan’s intense stare from across the room, Kady removed a handkerchief from her pocket and blotted her brow. Dressed in a lavender velvet evening gown, she felt like a gaudy, preening bird amid so many somber, mournful crows. Struggling to maintain her composure, Kady tugged at the wilted red tendrils of her loose bun and wished for an escape.

“I’m scarlet for ya,” said a disembodied voice.

Kady’s heartbeat accelerated as she recognized the husky tone. She turned and searched the shadows behind her until she noticed one pillar had wavy, black curls protruding from the sides. Kady’s lips quirked when her friend’s face emerged.

“Come here till you’re hidden by the pillar,” Gráinne Ní Riain said, beckoning to Kady. “I’m tellin’ ya, The Monahan’ll go crazy with not seein’ ya.”

A spark of rebelliousness propelled Kady towards Gráinne even as her eyes sought out Tobias. Feeling like a child hiding from punishment, Kady hunched her broad shoulders and settled beside her friend. So loudly did her heart pound, she could hear the drumming in her ears.

With her head resting against the cool stone, Kady peered down at the top of Gráinne’s head. She stood so close that wisps of Gráinne’s bobbed hair tickled her nose. Inhaling deeply, she allowed Gráinne’s gardenia and vanilla fragrance to flood her nose and cleanse the muggy air.

“I think Mrs. Kinney is lookin’ for ya.” Gráinne glanced over her shoulder at Kady. Her dark blue eyes widened when she noticed how close Kady stood. Feeling Gráinne’s surprise, Kady stepped back.

“He’s a good catch,” Gráinne continued, nodding in The Monahan’s direction, “if ya don’t mind….” Her voice faded as her finger mimicked his large, hooked nose.

Kady’s gaze drifted to her parents where they sat with Father Donovan. She feared looking at Gráinne, thinking her dejected glances would further bewilder her friend. Forcing wayward thoughts from her mind, she said, “He stutters.”

Gráinne nudged her side. “’Tis endearin’.”

Recoiling at the thought that anything about Tobias Monahan was endearing, Kady continued to watch her father as he murmured into the priest’s ear.

“Come now, Kady,” Gráinne said, “I’m speakin’ nothin’ but the truth. Dontcha be sayin’ otherwise.”

Kady didn’t want to be there. She wanted to be home where she could curl into her bed and lose herself in her thoughts. But she wasn’t at home, and she knew her parents wouldn’t leave the hall until she had danced with Tobias. Tearing her gaze from her father, she glanced around the pillar and made eye contact with The Monahan. When his brows lifted in silent inquiry, Kady pushed Gráinne aside and stepped away from their hiding place.

“Would ya stop talkin’ about The Monahan?”

“Oh, d-d-d-dear K-K-Kady, I l-l-lo—”

Kady spun on her heel, smacked her hand over Gráinne’s mouth, and yanked the girl until they were hidden behind a row of soldiers. Curiosity compelled Kady to peer over her shoulder. Tobias was still watching her movements. Feeling near to a breaking point, Kady grabbed Gráinne’s quaking shoulders and reversed their positions. “I wish I could just snatch ya bald, Gráinne Ní Riain.”

“Such fire, Caitríona Murphy. I didn’t think ya had it in ya.” As she ran her fingers through her short hair, Gráinne’s blue eyes twinkled and danced. She laughed at Kady’s growing discomfort and twirled in her lovely plum-colored cotton dress. The gown was one of Kady’s hand-me-downs, and it looked better on Gráinne than it had ever looked on Kady.

A subtle movement caught Kady’s attention. She turned away from Gráinne and found Mrs. Kinney, with her bulbous nose and beady blue eyes, watching them with a mixture of disdain and disappointment.

“Good evenin’,” Kady said, feeling more sweat gather at her back. Mrs. Kinney was one of the village’s matchmakers, and she had been the main force behind Kady’s match with Tobias.

But there was a doubtful look in Mrs. Kinney’s eyes tonight. She examined Kady’s face before lowering her gaze to scrutinize Kady’s dress. “You look lovely.” In spite of the kind words, there was no kindness in her tone.

“Evenin’, Mrs. Kinney,” Gráinne said from behind Kady.

The matchmaker stiffened at the sound of Gráinne’s voice. Instead of addressing Gráinne, she turned her back to them and walked a short distance to where Mrs. Rankle, one of Mrs. Kinney’s henchmen, stood.

“There’s that O’Ryan girl again,” Mrs. Rankle said loudly as she shook her head in disgust. “Twenty years old and without a suitable match. That gel will never wed. Mark me words.”

Gráinne leaned onto her tiptoes and whispered into Kady’s ear. “If I never find a match ’tis because she’s a terrible Babhdóir.”

Kady stifled a giggle, not wanting Mrs. Kinney to see her amusement. She avoided the older women’s gazes and noticed that Tobias was quickly approaching. She latched onto Gráinne’s hand and squeezed until Gráinne’s mouth opened in a sharp intake of breath.

Kady pointed in his direction. “Look. He’s comin’ this way.”

For a moment, Gráinne stared back at her as if confused. Then she bolted behind Kady and sunk her fingers into Kady’s hair.

“Dear Jesus, would ya look atcha?” Gráinne said, tugging the silk ribbon from Kady’s bun. Quickly, she removed pins and tucked away loose strands before twisting Kady’s hair into a chignon. As Gráinne shoved pins into the knot, she grunted with satisfaction. Then she pushed Kady forward. “That’ll do her.”

Kady groaned loudly, causing Gráinne to erupt in laughter behind her. Kady resigned herself to her fate, that of dancing with Tobias. Her shoulders slumped and her head bowed. Her panic rose as he neared but, unexpectedly, he didn’t stop before her. He walked right past her and approached her parents’ table.

“Maybe he doesn’t want to dance with me?” Kady said.

Gráinne snorted and pointed at Kady’s hair. “Mayhap he thought ya were Medusa?” Laughing again, Gráinne wrapped her arm around Kady’s waist and rested her head against her shoulder. “He’s askin’ your da for permission to dance. ’Tis only proper.”

Kady knew Gráinne was right. But it didn’t stop her heart from fluttering with outrage.

Looking in her parent’s direction, Kady noticed the pride on her father’s face as he sat straighter in his chair. She didn’t need to look at her mother’s face to know she would find satisfaction there.

“What if I don’t want to dance with him?” Kady asked her friend.

Gráinne growled as a twirling couple came too close to their refuge. She sucked air through her teeth then removed her arms from Kady. Stepping aside, Gráinne narrowed her eyes and pointed at the couple in a silent warning.

“Just say,” Gráinne said in a distracted manner, ‘No, Tobias Monahan, I don’t want to dance with ya.’”

Kady felt her chignon begin to loosen as she nodded emphatically. She inhaled deeply and curled her fingers into fists. “No, I don’t want to dance with ya.”

The corner of Gráinne’s mouth twitched. “I wasn’t plannin’ to ask ya, so there’s that.”

“No, Tobias Monahan,” Kady said, punching her fist in the air for emphasis. “I don’t want to dance with ya. No, Tobias Monahan, I don’t want to dance with ya.”

Tobias left her parents’ table and made his way to Kady, his stride purposeful. When he noticed Gráinne’s presence beside Kady, his feet slowed and his eyes narrowed. Then he shook his head, as if clearing it of disgust or frustration, and he looked at Kady. His mouth relaxed into a shy smile as his eyes focused on her nose.

Gráinne mumbled something and once again retreated behind Kady.

“Miss Murphy,” Tobias said, his voice higher than usual. “Would ya like to dance the next set with me?”

Kady’s throat went dry. She swallowed loudly and prepared herself. Over and over she had repeated the words, and she knew what needed to be said. She took several slow breaths, then exhaled all of her courage through tightened lips. Feeling breathless, she stood and gaped at him.

A long moment passed. Tobias waited patiently while Kady struggled to control her panic. The words were on her tongue, but they just wouldn’t leave her mouth.

Another set began. Cheers of approval broke out as dancers stepped in rhythm to the Ballingeary Jig Set.

“Do ya want to dance?” Tobias asked again. Loudly.

Kady deflated. She felt a sharp jab to her back, then heard a muffled and high-pitched, “No, Tobias Monahan, I don’t want to dance with ya.”

Tobias frowned. “Enough from ya, Gráinne.”

Gráinne stepped away from them and didn’t bother to cover her laughter.

His jaw tightened. “You should be ashamed of yourself.” He then pressed his lips together, snatched Kady’s hand, and tucked it under his arm. “Go away with you,” he said, waving a hand towards Gráinne. “Come now, Kady.”

“I will,” Kady blurted, her anxiousness quickly replaced with the comfort of predictability. As usual, she would do what was expected of her. “I will dance with ya, Tobias Monahan.”

He stared at her in confusion. “Yes, of course.”

His fingers were warm and sweaty, and she ignored the desire to yank her hand away and rub it against her skirts.

“Enjoy yourselves!” Gráinne yelled from across the room.

Kady and Tobias joined three other couples as the first set ended and the next set began. Tobias placed a hand on Kady’s waist and smiled before whipping her around in the first turn. She gasped as he spun her quickly. Faces blurred as they danced, but she could still make out the tension that stiffened Gráinne’s body.

Gráinne’s dejection was such a foreign thing that Kady stumbled. Tobias laughed as he drew her to a halt. “It’s a rare thing when a pretty girl swoons at my feet.”

Kady smiled at his joke, but her gaze flickered in Gráinne’s direction.

“Pay her no mind,” Tobias said, noticing where Kady’s attention was directed. “She’ll find a partner in no time at all.”

Kady didn’t doubt his words. Besides being wickedly mischievous, Gráinne was also wickedly beautiful. Gráinne’s full, rosy lips and high cheekbones were the envy of every girl in the room, including Kady. But whereas all the other girls avoided Gráinne, fearing their looks would pale in comparison, Kady found herself instinctively drawn to Gráinne. Her feelings went much deeper than simply admiring or envying her pretty face. At times Kady wished she could sit quietly and just look at her.

It was strange having their positions reversed. Kady was the one who usually lurked in the shadows while Gráinne laughed and danced with some handsome lad. Gráinne had more than enough suitors itching to dance with her, but there she stood—alone—in the corner.

Kady and Gráinne had always been attracted to different types of men. While Gráinne gravitated towards flashy rogues who liked sneaking kisses, Kady sought mellow lads who enjoyed quiet walks and read literature.

Needless to say, Tobias wasn’t to Gráinne’s liking. He wasn’t particularly handsome. However, he was amiable, dependable, and wealthy—traits that Kady’s parents sought. And as the only son of an Anglo-Irish family, he was destined to inherit a large house and considerable income.

But there was nothing about him that inspired Kady to lock herself away to moon over him in private. Gráinne, on the other hand, was worthy of such attention.

The charismatic beauty could have anyone. Maybe even Tobias, with his big nose and slight stutter. As their dance slowed into a waltz, Kady peered over Tobias’ shoulder and studied Gráinne’s pinched features.

Their eyes connected for the briefest moment, and Kady felt as if the floor had fallen away. There, in the depths of Gráinne’s eyes, was jealousy. But her envious look wasn’t directed at Kady.

It was directed at Tobias.