Husband for a Weekend
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Gina Wilkins
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Chapter One
“You don’t think I could make it work?” Tate Price asked his friend and business partner, Evan Daugherty.
Evan shook his head, his mouth quirking into a faint smile. “No. For an hour or so, maybe. But not for an entire weekend.”
“Want to make a bet on that?”
Kim Banks shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “Um, guys?”
The two men in the party of five at the restaurant table ignored her, even though she was the one who had unwittingly initiated this good-natured confrontation.
“I’ll take that bet,” Evan said, his gaze locked with Tate’s smiling amber eyes. “Say, a hundred bucks?”
Tate’s firm chin lifted in response to the provocation. “You’re on.”
“Seriously, guys. We’re not doing this. My mother will just have to be disappointed in me—again.”
Kim might as well not have spoken at all, for the reaction she received from her regular Wednesday lunch mates.
“I tend to agree with Evan.” Kim’s coworker Emma Grainger absently speared bamboo chopsticks into the noodles on her plate as she focused on the conversation. “I’m not at all sure this scheme would work.”
Before Tate could reply his sister, Lynette Price, another coworker of Kim’s, jumped in. “Tate could definitely do it. He’s, like, the king of practical jokes.”
Emma tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear and shook her head. “Married people give off a certain—well, vibe. Tate and Kim just don’t have it.”
“Because they haven’t tried for us,” Lynette countered logically.
Growing increasingly uncomfortable with this line of talk, and hardly able to even look at Tate now, Kim cleared her throat. Maybe she should not have told her friends about the bizarre appeal her eccentric, five-times-married mother had made during an out-of-the-blue phone call last night. It turned out that, unbeknownst to Kim, her mother had been lying for more than a year that Kim was happily married to the father of her nine-month-old daughter. Now her nutty mom had asked Kim to bring the baby—as well as someone pretending to be Kim’s husband—to an upcoming family reunion.
Kim had learned years earlier to shrug off Betsy Dyess Banks Cavenaugh O’Hara Vanlandingham Shaw’s antics, because she would drive herself as crazy as her mom if she took it all too seriously. Humor and avoidance had become her two weapons of choice against her mother’s periodic campaigns to draw Kim back into the chaos from which she had escaped nine years earlier, as soon as she had turned eighteen and graduated high school. Though Kim had assured her amused friends that she had no intention of complying with this latest wacky request, somehow the conversation had wound around to whether anyone—specifically Tate—could hoodwink Kim’s extended, estranged family into believing he’d been married to Kim for some eighteen months.
She shot a quick look at Tate then. Despite the incredible twist their conversation had taken, he lounged comfortably in his seat, looking as fit and undeniably hot as ever. Seeing her looking at him, he winked, and she dropped her gaze quickly to her plate, feeling her cheeks warm. For the past five months, Kim had been trying to hide her attraction to Tate from her friends, and she thought she’d done so successfully. She’d tried just as hard to deny it to herself, but that had been a much more futile effort.
“Tate would also have to convince them he’s her kid’s dad,” Evan pointed out. “So not only would he have to pretend to be in love with Kim, he’d have to look comfortable with her kid. Having the kid shriek every time he picks her up would hardly help his case.”
“Her name is Daryn,” Kim muttered. “And I—”
“That wouldn’t be an issue,” Tate said with a chuckle. “I just wouldn’t pick her up. Kim could be the hovering mom who doesn’t give anyone else a chance to take the baby.”
“And it’s not like Daryn is old enough to talk, so she wouldn’t be a problem,” Lynette agreed.
Emma propped an elbow on the table as she looked at the men with a contemplative frown. “This still doesn’t sound like a very good bet for you, Evan. Why would anyone openly challenge Kim about whether she and Tate were really married? You’d need a more definitive sign to prove Tate was able to convince Kim’s family that he’s her loving husband.”
Evan looked intrigued. “Like what?”
“Grandma’s ring,” Lynette chimed in eagerly.
Kim choked. “Oh, now that’s going too far.”
She had confided in her friends that her long-widowed maternal grandmother was disgusted with her children’s and grandchildren’s dismissive attitudes toward their marriage vows, resulting in an appalling number of divorces among them. Grandma Dyess had informed everyone that the first of her grandchildren who entered into a union that Grandma herself believed would last would receive her diamond engagement ring. So far Grandma had refused to endorse any of her grandchildren’s choices, and rightly so, since only one of the seven was currently married and Kim had heard that union was a shaky one. Still…
Lynette waved a hand dismissively in response to Kim’s protest. “I didn’t say you should take the ring under false pretenses. Obviously, that would be wrong. But if you and Tate could convince Grandma to offer it to you, that would mean he’d won the bet.”
“And that’s not wrong at all,” Kim murmured sarcastically.
Lynette just beamed at her, visibly pleased with herself for coming up with such a perfect solution.
“That would definitely work,” Emma agreed. “If Grandma offers the ring, it would be clear that Tate pulled off the charade.”
“That would be the ultimate proof,” Evan conceded. “But I still say if anyone—grandmother or other relative—expresses doubt, the bet would be lost.”
“Well, since you won’t be there, how would you know if anyone expressed doubt?” Emma asked. “Tate wouldn’t have to tell you if they did.”
Both Lynette and Evan looked offended by Emma’s naive question.
“Tate wouldn’t lie to me to win a bet,” Evan disputed loyally.
“He’d only lie to my entire family,” Kim said with a shake of her head, both exasperated and reluctantly amused by this insane conversation.
“Well, yeah,” Lynette agreed matter-of-factly. “That’s the challenge, right?”
Setting down her chopsticks, Kim looked from one of her friends to the other with a frown of disbelief, her gaze sliding rather quickly past Tate. “Are you guys really serious? You’re actually suggesting Tate should accompany me to my family reunion in Missouri and pretend to be my husband? My daughter’s father?”
“You said you wouldn’t mind seeing your ailing grandmother one more time,” Lynette reminded her. “And that your mother would never forgive you if you exposed her as a liar to her entire family. Seems like the perfect solution.”
“The perfect solution is for me to skip the reunion altogether, which is what I told my mother I plan to do. Just as I’ve missed the past three Dyess family reunions.”
“Lynette’s right, this would give you a chance to see your grandmother without permanently alienating your mother. And if he can make it work, Tate’s a hundred bucks ahead,” Evan agreed with an uncharacteristically mischievous laugh.
Tate shrugged, his smile easy, his eyes inscrutable as he looked across the table at Kim. “No one’s given you any say in all this.”
“It’s about time someone acknowledged that.”
He chuckled. “It’s a crazy idea, of course. Would probably get awkward as all get-out. But if you want to give it a shot, I’m in.”
She blinked. “You would really do this?”
“Sure. I could use the extra hundred bucks,” he added with a quick grin toward Evan.
Kim wasn’t fooled that the money had anything to do with his offer, but she was not quite certain how to read the expression in Tate’s amber-brown eyes. She’d had lunch with him almost every Wednesday for the past five months, but there were still times she couldn’t tell what he was thinking.
Kim, Lynette and Emma had started the Wednesday lunch outing six months ago as a little break from their usual, frugal practice of brown-bagging. A month later, Lynette had impulsively invited her brother to join them when he’d mentioned that he would be in the area. He had brought his business partner, Evan, and somehow Chinese Wednesday had evolved into a weekly ritual after that. Occasionally other people came along, and sometimes one or more of the core group had other obligations, but most Wednesdays found the five of them gathered around a table in this popular Little Rock, Arkansas, restaurant. They ate, chatted casually about a variety of topics—usually work-related—then Kim, Lynette and Emma returned to the medical rehabilitation center where they all worked as therapists and Tate and Evan left to check on their ongoing landscape projects.
Kim always looked forward to these get-togethers. She told herself she needed the break from work and deserved the weekly splurge. The conversation was always lively and sprinkled with lots of laughter, a nice midweek pick-me-up. During the almost seven months since she’d started working with them, Lynette and Emma had become her friends, and she considered Tate and Evan friends, as well. They all carefully avoided any intra-group drama, which meant no real flirting between any of them. It was nice to just be pals without complications.
Which didn’t mean she was unaware of exactly how attractive Tate and Evan were. She had no intention of getting involved with either of them, but she was far from oblivious to their appeal. Especially Tate, she had to admit, if only privately. If she were looking for someone with whom to have a toe-curling fling—which, as a hardworking single mother, she had neither the time nor the inclination for—brown-haired, tanned and fit Tate Price would most definitely qualify as a candidate. Evan was a great-looking guy, too, with his thick, near-black hair and gleaming, solemn dark eyes, but there had always been something special about Tate… .
Not that she would want to hook up with the brother of a good friend anyway, she always assured herself hastily. Way too much potential for awkwardness involved there. And Tate had stated on more than one occasion that he had no interest in any commitment until he and Evan were comfortable that their fledgling landscape design business was established and successful. His business was just about the only thing Tate took seriously.
Lynette bounced a little in her seat, all but clapping her hands in excitement. “You should do it, Kim. It’s not like anyone would be hurt by the game. And in a way, it would serve your mother right if she has to scramble to keep up the ruse she started.”
Lynette thought of this as a game? Having Tate pretend to be a husband and father?
“It would be kind of funny,” Emma murmured, her almond-shaped dark eyes crinkling with a smile as she looked from Kim to Tate and back again. “I would love to see you towing Tate around like a bossy wife.”
Tate eyed Kim in teasing appraisal. “You think she’d be a bossy wife?”
Emma giggled. “No, I just think it would be funny if she acted like one toward you.”
“I have no interest in being any kind of wife,” Kim reminded them, aware that embarrassment made her sound more cross than she intended. “Daryn and I get along quite nicely by ourselves.”
Lynette’s smile faded. “I know your father and stepfathers all left you eventually, but that doesn’t mean all men abandon their families, Kim. I could name lots of couples who have been together for a long time, including my parents. You’ll meet someone someday who’ll always want to be there for you and Daryn.”
Kim shrugged, having no intention of discussing any baggage she carried from her past with her lunch companions. “You know what they say—if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. I’m quite content with the life I have. Now if only I could convince my mother of that.”
“She’d never understand it,” Emma said perceptively. “Not if she’s the type who always has to have a man in her life to feel complete.”
“Bingo,” Kim murmured.
“Then maybe you should just skip the reunion rather than risk a permanent falling-out with your mother,” Evan remarked. “Besides, I still believe it would be hard to fool everyone. Even for Tate.”
“Maybe Kim’s the one who doesn’t think she could make it work,” Tate said, his ego still piqued, apparently, by his partner’s doubts. “She said she didn’t want to go to the reunion and pretend to be married because she’s a terrible actor.”
“I said I’m a bad liar. It’s not necessarily the same thing as being a bad actor. And that’s not the only reason I don’t want to get involved in this.”
“Of course not.”
She frowned at him, trying to decide if he was patronizing her.
“Well?” Lynette prodded impatiently. “Are you going to at least think about doing what your mother asked? Especially if Tate’s willing to go along?”
Feeling everyone’s gaze focused on her, Kim bit her lip, warning herself not to let her friends sweep her into this impulsive plot. “I’ll think about it. But I’m still inclined to say no, even if it makes Mother mad. She’ll get over it. Probably.”
Lynette’s dimples flashed again. “You take your time deciding.”
Something told Kim that Lynette would do her best to help with the decision—and by help, she meant persuade. Studying Tate’s rather challenging smile through her lashes, Kim felt a sudden surge of nerves, wondering if she was insane for even considering this reckless scheme.
She had to admit that there’d been a time when she would have jumped at the chance to pull a practical joke of this magnitude on her annoying family—but that was before she’d grown into a responsible, serious-natured single mom, she reminded herself. Her impetuous, adventurous, wild-oats-sowing days were behind her now.
But maybe she could indulge in one last, reckless escapade before settling into a maturely circumspect future?
* * *
“Tate, why don’t you give Kim a kiss? We’ll tell you if it looks natural.” Emma made the suggestion as if it were perfectly reasonable, then looked vaguely surprised when Kim spun to gape at her. “What? You want this to work, don’t you?”
Kim wasn’t sure why Emma, Lynette and Evan had gathered at her house at noon on Friday, nine days after that fateful lunch, before she and Tate departed for the four-hour drive to Springfield, Missouri. Kim and Tate had both taken the afternoon off work for the trip, but the others had wasted their lunch break for this. Evan, apparently, was there primarily to make fun of his partner. Emma and Lynette had shown up presumably to make sure Kim didn’t back out at the last minute. Which, she admitted privately, was a definite possibility.
She had spent the past nine days changing her mind so often she now had a dull headache. Even standing outside her house preparing to start the drive, she dithered about whether she should risk any future contact with her mother and just call off this whole crazy scheme. Tate was still taking the situation as a big joke, even as he loaded his suitcase into the back of Kim’s hatchback, stuffing it among the numerous bags and miscellaneous accessories necessary for traveling with a nine-month-old.
“Kiss her?” Closing the hatchback with a snap, he turned to respond to Emma. “You mean, now?”
Always the ultraorganized, detail-oriented member of the group, Emma nodded thoughtfully. “It wouldn’t hurt to practice before you leave.”
Tate grinned. “I don’t think I need practice kissing.”
Kim would just bet he didn’t. Even the thought of kissing Tate made her toes curl.
Emma rolled her dark eyes in response to Tate’s quip, but continued seriously. “I’m assuming you haven’t kissed Kim before. If your first time is in front of her family, it could be awkward.”
Kim nearly choked. As if this weren’t already awkward enough! “Even if Tate and I really were married, I doubt we’d be kissing in front of my family. I tend to be private with that sort of thing.”
Looking up from the baby she was holding and cooing to, Lynette gave a little shrug. “Emma’s right. You two have to look comfortable together if you’re going to make this work. And frankly, Kim, you’re the one who needs the practice. You keep looking at Tate today as if you’ve never seen him before.”
While the others laughed, Kim felt her cheeks warm, and it had little to do with the stifling early-August heat. The truth was, she did feel almost as if Tate were a stranger to her today.
Prior to last week, she’d believed she knew him quite well, that he was one of her good friends—her inconvenient attraction to him notwithstanding. Now, with him preparing to accompany her to her family reunion—as her husband, no less—she wasn’t sure she knew him at all. For example, she couldn’t figure out exactly why he’d agreed to participate in this crazy charade. It certainly wasn’t because he needed the hundred dollars from his business partner.
“I still don’t understand why your mother felt the need to lie to everyone,” Evan mused, his thoughts apparently similar to hers, if for another reason. “It’s not like being a single mom is considered all that shameful these days.”
“You’d have to know my mother and her sister to understand,” Kim said with a wry shrug. “They just can’t comprehend how a woman could be happy without a man in her life. Which explains why Aunt Treva just ended her third marriage and Mom’s on her fifth. The minute one loser leaves, Mom hooks up with another one. Every time I talk to her, she reminds me that all three of her children were conceived within wedlock—even if it was by three different husbands. She said she had to tell her mother and her sister I was married or she would never be able to hold her head up in the family again.”
“Bizarre,” Emma agreed, “but still, if you’re going to convince your family that you and Tate are a settled-in couple, you’re going to have to work at it a little.”
“You know, this is really getting out of hand,” Kim said abruptly, shaking her head. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Let’s just forget the whole thing, okay? Thanks, Tate, but I won’t be needing you this weekend, after all.”
Emma and Lynette swapped a look as if they’d predicted this moment. Lynette shifted the wide-eyed baby on her hip. “You can’t back out now, Kim. You want to see your grandmother, remember? And you wanted her to see Daryn at least once.”
“So, I’ll go alone. I’ll tell the truth—that I never married and that Daryn’s father isn’t a part of our lives.”
“And expose your mother’s lies to everyone?” Sympathy for Kim’s plight reflected in Lynette’s green eyes. “She would never forgive you. I know you’ve had a rocky relationship with her, but are you really ready to burn all your bridges with her?”
Hearing her own concerns put into words, Kim sighed. “I don’t know. Situations like this one have made me keep my distance from her, but she is my mother… .”
“Exactly.”
“So, I’ll go along with the fabrication, but I’ll tell everyone my husband had to work or something and couldn’t join me this weekend.”
“You’d never get away with it,” Evan predicted with a wry smile. “You said yourself, you’re a terrible liar.”
“How bad could it be if I accompany you?” Tate asked. “We’ll show up for the reunion, I’ll stand close to you and smile a lot, you introduce your grandmother to your daughter and then we’ll make an excuse to leave early. Your mother will owe you an enormous favor and you can hold it over her head forever to make sure she never drags you into a mess like this again.”
He made it all sound almost logical. Kim shook her head in bemusement, thinking insanity must be contagious. She didn’t know if Tate had caught it from her, who’d been infected by her mother—or if both she and Tate were being influenced by the three friends standing nearby and enjoying this spectacle. Easy enough for them, she thought with a frown.
“Tate’s bag is already in your car.” Lynette spoke as if that were the deciding factor, as if the bag couldn’t be removed quite easily. “You might as well go through with it now.”
“Apparently, she’d rather call the whole thing off than kiss Tate,” Evan commented, his eyes gleaming. “Not that I blame you for that,” he added with a half smile.
This situation seemed to have brought out a roguish side of Evan that Kim hadn’t seen much before. She’d always thought of him as the serious, disciplined partner.
“I’m thinking y’all made your bet with the wrong person,” Tate murmured, eyeing Kim with lifted eyebrows. “Kim seems to be the one who doesn’t believe she has the talent—or maybe the nerve—to go through with this. Actually, I’d be willing to make a fifty-dollar side bet that Kim’s the one who’ll blow our cover before I do.”
Even though she knew she shouldn’t let his mild taunt pique her ego, Kim still felt her hackles rise. The others watched her speculatively, and she wondered if they agreed with Tate that she was the weak link in this impromptu partnership.
She reminded herself that none of them had known her prior to her new life as a quiet-living, hardworking single mom. She’d started working at the rehab clinic after her maternity leave, and they hadn’t known her when she’d worked at another facility in a different, nearby Arkansas town, so they couldn’t be aware that this was exactly the kind of escapade she once would have thrown herself into with impish gusto. She wasn’t that person any longer—but it still irked that they so obviously doubted her.
She sighed gustily and let her youthful recklessness reassert itself—but only temporarily, she vowed. “I’ll take that bet.”
She reached out to grab Tate’s navy polo shirt and yank him toward her. Before he could finish his sputtered laugh, she pressed her mouth to his.
