Chapter 5

FIVE

AURORA

Present

I splashed cold water on my face, toweled off, then froze when I caught my reflection in the bathroom mirror. My eyes were puffy and sunken in dark circles. My skin looked paler than usual and somehow both greasy and scaly at the same time.

“Gross.”

Everything had gone according to plan so far—the kitchen disaster, the bedroom theft, the all-night alarms—yet this whole make-my-husband-hate-me scheme was taking a toll on me.

That meant it had to be taking a toll on Foster, too.

Sure, he’d seemed completely unbothered by the first two parts of my plan, but the stop watches I’d set up all over the guest bedroom had gone off with beeping annoyance all night long. If they were loud enough to bother me, across the hall in a different bedroom, they had to have completely ruined his night.

A noise bubbled up through my chest and escaped my lips.

“Mwaha.”

The sound resembled the maniacal laughter of a cartoon villain.

I snapped my hand over my mouth, told myself to get it together, and headed out of the bathroom with the hope that Foster hadn’t heard me. He had to still be asleep after alarmageddon.

Man, I really needed some sleep.

I headed back across the hall to Foster’s bedroom where I’d left my belongings, and where I’d spent the night.

But I caught movement from the corner of my eye.

I froze in the doorway.

He was standing by the closet, his shirt not yet completely buttoned, revealing a chest far too chiseled for a man who spent his days in a courtroom.

I remembered touching that chest, running my palms across the firm surface. At the memory, my cheeks heated and my fingers flexed at my sides.

“Good morning, Aurora.”

He grinned like he’d caught me looking, the jerk.

Don’t let him sense weakness.

“You look awake,” I said with enough attitude for it to sound like an insult.

He finished buttoning his shirt, his gaze never leaving mine. “You look exhausted.”

“I’m not,” I lied. “I’m so rested I could skip sleeping tonight. I don’t even need it.”

Wow, that was stupid.

I would not shift my feet. I would not be the first to look away.

I’d maintain my composure and my resolve.

Foster masterfully worked his tie into the perfect knot, still without breaking eye contact. “How many watches did you hide in the guest room?”

“All of them. So many it’s impossible for you to find them all. The alarms will haunt you for eternity and you’ll never sleep again.” I crossed my arms, leaned on the door frame and let a smug grin cross my lips. “Ready to sign the annulment yet?”

He gave me no reaction. Not a hint of annoyance. “Is it Christmas?”

No. Obviously it was not.

“I’ll sign on Christmas, so long as you follow the terms of our agreement.” He finally turned around, breaking eye contact, to grab his jacket.

It didn’t feel like I was winning. It felt like I was flailing.

“How are you so awake?” I snapped.

“I hardly require sleep.”

That couldn’t be true, could it?

He slung the strap of his work bag over his shoulder and crossed the room toward me.

I dropped my arms and took a step back into the hall.

As he reached me, he said, “There’s coffee on the counter if you’d like some.”

“I thought you didn’t drink coffee.” I specifically remembered that from our night in Christmas Village. No hot cocoa, no coffee. Foster drank tea instead.

“I don’t. But you do. Tea in the cabinet above if you’d like to try some. See you tonight for dinner, Mrs. Musa.”

With that, he left.

I stood there dumbfounded.

Mrs. Musa. When I’d called him my husband I’d meant it to sound like a curse. When he called me his wife, it sounded like a term of endearment.

I hated it.

And why would he keep coffee in his house if he didn’t drink it? I wandered out to the kitchen and checked out the brand new single-serve coffee machine. It hadn’t been here yesterday, and it didn’t look like it had ever been used before.

Whatever woman he’d tricked into marrying him last time, this had to be hers.

I didn’t like the uncertainty spinning in my stomach. I didn’t like even considering that he might have done something nice just for me.

I walked away from the machine and called Ruby.

She answered on the first ring. “I’ve been waiting for your call, so impatiently. How did it go?”

“I honestly have no idea. I’m so confused.”

“Start from the beginning. Give me every juicy, disgusting detail.”

I wasn’t sure if I should be amused or disturbed by that last comment.

“I did the kitchen mess plan,” I said.

“Rigatoni Rampage.”

I nodded as if she could see me as I made my way to the living room. “Except he had spaghetti in the cabinet, not rigatoni, which I figured would work out well.”

“Oh yeah, red sauce stains like no one’s business.”

“Right?” I took a seat on the couch and slumped down into the ridiculously soft cushions. “Well, he gets home, and I’ve stolen his bedroom?—”

“The Slumber Swipe Scheme.”

“Exactly. Combine that with how I trashed his kitchen, and when he showed up, I was wearing my shortest shorts.”

“The pink ones that make your butt look hot?”

“Yep. Except the pink shorts have no effect on him, he cleans up the kitchen, and he eats the spaghetti, without losing his cool even for a second. It’s infuriating.”

Ruby was quiet.

Too quiet.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” I said.

“You made yourself look extra sexy?—”

“I made that one up on the fly. I’m calling it Lustful Lament.”

“And while you were looking as sizzling hot as bacon on cast iron, you crawled into his bed, and for good measure, you made the man dinner?”

“No,” I said.

That sounded bad.

It sounded not at all like what I had done.

A small string of panic coiled itself around my stomach. “I didn’t seduce him in a nice way like you’re making it sound. I made a mess. I left the pasta bowl flipped upside down in the fridge so it would make even more of a mess when he moved it. And he didn’t even care, Ruby.”

Maybe I’d given him the wrong impression. Maybe I hadn’t been mean enough.

“I did the watch thing,” I said, hoping at least that made my intentions clear.

“Alarmageddon, yeah, that’s a good one.”

“It should be good. But he wasn’t fazed at all this morning. He looked…refreshed.”

“I swear, he’s the human equivalent of a sweaty gym sock.”

I loved her for saying that. I nodded. “And through all of the alarms, I didn’t sleep. I look like a wombat who spent the night trapped in one of those polishing stone tumblers.”

“So you came out all shiny and smooth?”

“No.” I snorted. “Frazzled, crumpled, borderline rabid.”

“Aww. I bet you look better than you think. And I bet he’s more bothered than he lets on. He’s probably just good at hiding it. He’s a lawyer. They have to be good liars. It’s in the job description.”

Maybe she was right. I wasn’t awake enough yet to properly assess all of the information. I needed caffeine, stat.

That meant using the gift he’d left for me.

“It gets even worse.” I peeled myself from the sofa and returned to the kitchen.

“Worse than feeling rabid?” Ruby asked.

“I think he bought me a coffee machine.”

“The monster.”

“Seriously,” I said. “The enemy can’t do nice things. It’s confusing.”

“Maybe that’s the point. Do you think he’s lulling you into complacency? Tricking you into trusting him?”

“I don’t know.”

I stared at the machine, and at this point I didn’t care why he’d bought it. I needed coffee. I poured a small mountain of sugar into the bottom of a mug and a pod in the machine.

“He’s also forcing me to eat dinner with him every night from now on.” I took my mug back to the sofa and blew on the hot liquid, rippling the surface.

“Hmm,” Ruby said.

“Hmm? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m percolating. You keep talking.”

“He called me a child. Then he said that’s why I had to sit at the table with him for dinner every night at seven.”

Ruby whistled. “How old is this guy again?”

“Thirty-one.”

“So only five years older than you.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, I’ve come to my conclusion,” Ruby said. “I think you absolutely had an effect on him in those pink shorts. I think they reminded him of your hot-as-bananas night in Christmas Village, and he wants you there, in his grasp, for round two.”

“That’s what you got from him calling me a child?”

“No, that’s what I got from the big picture. He’s trying to spend time with you because you’re a fabulous catch.”

Sweet. But she couldn’t be right, could she?

I said, “Round two? No way. That’ll never happen.”

“Because you think he doesn’t want it to, or because you don’t?”

“Both?”

“You don’t sound sure.”

I wasn’t sure at all. I was in way over my head, clearly. I downed my coffee as soon as it was cool enough to not sear my tongue.

“If he doesn’t hate me yet, I haven’t picked enough schemes,” I said.

“That’s a choice,” Ruby said, clearly not agreeing with me.

“I’m going to flip the toilet paper on the roll in his bathroom right now. Tape Trap is a good one, too.”

“You’re going to put double-sided tape on all the doorknobs? Won’t that be annoying for you, too?”

“Good point. I’ll just do it to the cabinets in his bathroom, ooh, and on the toilet flusher. That’s perfect.”

Ruby was quiet, which left me time to continue my plotting.

“And if you are right, and Foster was wooed by my pink shorts, I could lean into that, too. If I can seduce him, then I’ll hold all the power and I can make him do anything I want. He’ll have no choice but to sign the annulment. I’ll call this plot…Codename Hot Pursuit.”

“Having fun while you work out the job situation is a great idea,” Ruby said. “Be careful with your heart though, okay Ror?”

I scoffed. “My heart is at zero risk.”

“Even better,” she said, again in the tone that suggested she didn’t agree.

That was fine. I’d annoy and seduce Foster until I secured that signature. Then I’d walk away, waving the annulment like a victory flag.

“Oh, I almost forgot to tell you,” Ruby said. “I looked up the name Musa just for kicks, and guess what.”

“What?”

“It actually means bananas.”

I was more than a little skeptical about this translation.

“Your Mr. Bananas’s last name is literally bananas,” Ruby said.

“Hmm.”

“Look it up yourself. You’ll see. It’s totally meant to be. But also, be careful.”

I rolled my eyes.

“I’ve got to go,” Ruby said. “Satan spotted. Code red. I repeat, code red.”

“Good lu?—”

Before I could finish my sentence, Ruby hung up. That was fine. She had her own revenge plot to work on.

I had lots to do today, too, like finding a job and setting up another round of trouble for tonight, but mostly the job thing because getting my life back on track was priority number one.

And I’d get right to that after I set up a couple of pranks in case Foster got home before I did.

I did the toilet taping, the paper flipping, and squeezed some toothpaste over the sink knobs for good measure.

Then, I grabbed the bag of glitter that was stashed in my purse.

Sure, I could put the impossible-to-get-rid-of sparkles in his shampoo or his sheets, but showering it all over clothes meant harder clean up. He’d be stuck dry cleaning his entire wardrobe and he’d still find sparkly snowflake cutouts in his pockets for the months.

I barked a laugh.

Then, for a brief moment, I hesitated.

I was a nicer person than all of this.

But even nice people had limits, and holding a fake marriage over my head was mine.

I pushed away my second thoughts, entered Foster’s closet, and got to work. I took a small handful of glitter and tossed it in the air. The flecks sparkled in the light and floated down like snow onto Foster’s fancy suits.

It dusted the shoulders, the insides, the pockets. Not a single jacket, shirt, or pair of pants was spared.

Then I moved deeper into the closest and dumped a bit in each of his shoes.

While crouched down, I noticed a mystery duffle bag hidden in the corner behind a winter coat I knew for a fact Foster never wore.

Anticipation shivered up my spine. The thrill of discovery coursed through my veins.

“What’s in here?” I asked no one. “What are you hiding, Mr. Bananas?”

I pulled the bag out and pulled open the zipper.

Inside, I found…a ski mask?

I didn’t know what I was expecting, but this wasn’t it.

Weirder, there were wigs and hats and fake mustaches, too.

Was Foster secretly a bank robber?

Forget pranks, I’d just discovered the best way to force him to sign that paper—blackmail.

Maybe I wasn’t as nice a person as I’d thought.

December 1st, ten days ago…

“Tea or cocoa?” Foster asked as we stood in line.

“Coffee,” I said.

He raised a brow, apparently surprised. “Even at night?”

“That’s what decaf’s for. I’d also take something fruity over chocolatey. Lemon and poppyseed over chocolate chip any day.”

“How is that possible?”

The line moved, and we took a step forward.

“Have you ever had a top-tier lemon and poppyseed muffin?” I asked.

“None that would sway me to lemon over chocolate.”

“That’s a no. A really good one is impossible to top.”

We reached the counter of the small stall, where an elf took our orders. Foster chose tea. I chose decaf, with a whole boatload of sugar.

As we walked away with our drinks, I asked, “If you think chocolate is so great, why didn’t you pick cocoa?”

“It’s too sweet.”

“Don’t tell me you like the chocolate so dark and bitter it tastes like dirt.”

He chuckled. “It doesn’t taste like dirt.”

“If you say so.”

He thought the arctic tundra wasn’t that cold. He thought chocolate tasted better without sugar. I’d never met such a sexy weirdo.

We explored the village, following the scavenger hunt—a snowman building contest, a walk down an enchanted forest path covered in lights, a tiny parade.

“Lots of friends or a close few?” I asked.

“Is it sad if I say I’ve committed so much time to my career that I’ve only held onto one close friend?”

“No. Maybe. But I understand. I’m the same. My bestie…” I considered what I should say. It was my rule that we weren’t supposed to give last names. It was my rule that this was supposed to be a no-strings one-night stand, even though it was easily the best date I’d ever been on.

The more truths I shared, the more real all of this felt.

“She’s a gemstone who uses her voice to reach the masses. She’s awesome,” I said.

“I’m sure she is if she’s the one person you’ve chosen to keep in your life.”

A fresh dose of warmth surged through my stomach, and it had nothing to do with the coffee.

“This is all going way too well. If we keep clicking like this, I’m liable to ask for your number instead of just your….” I nodded down to his crotch, because saying ‘cock’ felt like crossing a line while a clump of children was running past.

“We wouldn’t want that.”

His wicked smile rippled through me, sparking every nerve to life.

I wanted to forget the village stroll and skip ahead to what came next, but I also never wanted it to end.

I couldn’t get involved with anyone right now. I was only interested in a one-night distraction.

Foster was giving me that in spades.

“Is work what brought you to North Pole Island?” I asked, despite myself.

“A favor to a….” He flattened his mouth into a line.

“Your one friend?”

“Ha. No.”

I caught a flash of something in the corner of my eye. Recognition struck, and I squealed with excitement.

Foster followed my gaze.

We stared together at a massive inflatable tyrannosaurus rex wearing a Santa hat. There was only one task left to complete on our scavenger hunt—take a selfie at one of the photo op spots.

The inflatable was a sign. First, we needed to finish the scavenger hunt. After, we’d have all the sex.

I hurried over to the inflatable. We couldn’t do a selfie together though, that would totally spoil my plan. I’d end up mooning over his hotness. No evidence of him in my phone was better. Safer.

“Would you be willing to take my picture?” I asked Foster and held out my phone.

Of course.

Foster held it up. I hugged the dinosaur and smiled. He snapped it.

“A fan of dinosaurs?” he asked as he handed my phone back.

“Fan isn’t an adequate word. I’m a storm of love for dinosaurs. I was set on being a paleontologist since I was little, until I found out Jurassic Park wasn’t real.”

He looked at me like I was adorable, like he was enjoying this time together as much as I was. That was a very dangerous thing. Or a very hot thing. Or both.

I felt like I was floating, like the crushing feeling I’d felt earlier tonight was lightyears away.

“We finished the scavenger hunt,” I said.

“Tell me what you want next. Explicitly.”

He was going to make me be brave and say it out loud? Heat crept up my neck. I leaned closer. My nerves made my whole body feel like it was full of bubbles.

“I’m ready for you to show me your dinosaur.” As the words left my lips, I realized that they didn’t sound nearly as hot as they had in my head.

Foster took my hand and led me toward the gate we’d entered through.

I handed the scavenger hunt paper to the elf.

He clapped his hands. “Congratulations.”

A bunch of elves appeared. Their voices lifted in song, but I couldn’t make out the words that they were saying. It wasn’t English.

I spun to follow what the elves were doing. They spread out a garland of green leaves.

The elves circled Foster and me, tangling us in the garland until we were pressed chest to chest, tied together.

They kept singing, but the sound of them faded away.

All I could focus on was the feel of Foster’s firm chest pressed against me, the feel of his fingers as they brushed mine, and the sparks lighting up my skin everywhere we touched.

He felt so much more massive up close, so warm. My insides turned molten, swirling hot and foreign in my stomach.

I looked up and found his expression dark, a departure from the playful looks he’d given me all night long. His eyes were hazy and fixed on my mouth.

I lifted on tiptoes and pressed my lips to his. It was tentative and testing, until he kissed me back.

The fireworks that followed weren’t in the sky overhead.

They were on my lips and in my chest and all over my skin.

They came from the sharp scrape of his teeth on my jaw, his tongue all over my body—in the privacy of his hotel room, of course.

One kiss and the rest was inevitable.

One kiss and I forgot I was supposed to feel nervous.

One kiss and I forgot where I ended and he began, for the entirety of one perfect night, before I ran away dark-early the morning after.