Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Rafe

Emmy: By the way, you’re coming to dinner next week.

Me: I am?

Emmy: Yes. I won’t take no for an answer. You and West need to learn how to get along.

Me: Can’t we just go out to lunch, me and you?

Emmy: No. I’m having a big family dinner here. 7 o’clock on Saturday. Don’t be late.

Me: So the entire Wolfe family will be there?

Emmy: Yes. And I will send them to hunt you down, if you try to bail.

Me (typed but deleted): If you only knew that I was married into their family, too. For now.

Me (actual reply instead): I’ll be there.

Emmy: Okay, see you then. heart emoji

A s I reread the exchange with my sister, part of me wished it was a little less distant and formal. And yet, it was entirely my fault that it was. I’d been the one to stay away from Starry Hills since our parents’ funeral. I’d also given up custody of Emmy when I was nineteen. True, I hadn’t been mature enough to raise a little girl at that point—we were nearly ten years apart—but I’d also blamed myself for making her an orphan.

I still struggled with that guilt, to be honest. Although Emmy kept telling me it wasn’t my fault that our parents had died in a car crash, even though they’d been driving to the airport to come see me play soccer in England.

A knock on my front door brought me back to the present. Few people knew where I lived on the outskirts of Starry Hills, but one of them would be my wife.

And sure enough, as I opened the door, Abby stood there. She wore jeans and a sweater, her dark hair long around her face and shoulders. With her cheeks flushed from the cold, I could barely tear my eyes from her face. When had the annoying little sister of my best friend turned into this fucking gorgeous woman?

She raised her brows. “Can I come in, or are you going to stand there and stare at me?”

Clearing my throat, I waved her inside and shut the door behind her. “How do you know I wasn’t staring at some bird shit in your hair?”

“There aren’t a lot of birds in February, Rafael. Have you been away so long that you forgot about that?”

“There are birds year-round. It’s not my fault that you haven’t paid attention.”

She rolled her eyes. “Remind me again why I married you?”

Neither of us had fully remembered the reason yet, and she knew it. “I was drunk.”

She flipped me off. “Maybe I should just leave, asshole.”

Sighing, I reached out and grabbed her hand. Ignoring how icy they were and how I wanted to rub them warm again, I replied, “Sorry. I’m going to work harder at being nice to you.”

“I don’t want you to be too nice, though. I like bickering with you sometimes.”

I frowned. “You do?”

“It’s like a sport in my family.” She shrugged one shoulder. “It keeps life interesting.”

“I’ve never had a woman want to argue with me.”

“Well, as we’ve already established, I’m not like the other women you’ve been with. I’ll never fit into a size two dress, for one thing. Or wear four-inch heels.”

I wanted to growl that her curves were perfect, but held back. If we stayed married, it would be platonic. The sooner I accepted that, the better.

However, I didn’t want her to keep harping on herself, so I said, “I like that you’re tall.”

“Only because you’re an inch taller than me. Trust me, when the guy is short and his eye line is right at your boobs, it’s a little creepy.”

“Well, that’s something else I can offer—if you stay my wife, I’ll glare and chase away any guy who talks to your chest and not your face.”

The corner of her mouth ticked up. “The boob-staring police? Is that a new department?”

“I would only serve one woman. Everyone else would have to fend for themselves.”

She tapped her chin. “That is a tempting reason. But I think I need a little more about the specifics, which means we need to talk.”

I’d been dreading “the talk” for days now. Because yes, it’d been a little over a week. Abby had been helping Nolan and Katie with their whole scandal showdown with some actress. What was her name again? Oh, right: Wendy Webster.

But apparently Nolan and Katie were in love and together and would become yet another couple I barely knew but would be jealous of.

Not the time to think about that. I gestured toward the kitchen. “I’ve been practicing my coffee making skills. I also have brownies. They were your favorite at Emmy’s sleepovers as a kid. I don’t know if they still are, but I figured I should have something in case you’re hungry.”

She sat on a stool at the kitchen island and turned toward me. For a few seconds, she frowned and studied me. Then just as quickly, her face returned to her default—as if she were about to smirk at some remark or other. “Chocolate is always a good choice. But only put out a few and hide the rest, though. Brownies are definitely one of my weaknesses, and I can’t stop eating them, even if I’m full.”

“Can’t say I’m the same with sweet stuff.” I went to the espresso machine. “What do you want?”

She smiled, propped her arms on the counter, and said, “A latte with a pretty chocolate design on top?”

“Think you’re outsmarting me, don’t you? But guess what?” I removed one of those stencils they used for exactly her request. “I came prepared.”

She laughed. “Point to Mendoza. However, the jury’s still out about whether it tastes any good or not. If not, then you owe me a coffee from Starry Eyes Bakery.”

Her comment gave me hope she would agree to the year of marriage. However, I wanted a little more playfulness with Abby before broaching that topic. Even though it was something so simple—bantering over coffee—it was more fun than I’d had in a long time.

Not wanting to think about how it was my own fucking fault I hadn’t made many friends over the years, I focused on making the best damn latte in the world.

After I finished and placed the mug and some brownies in front of her, she sipped her drink and closed her eyes. “Mmm. That’s pretty good.”

I should make a remark or gloat or say something. However, I could only stare at the milk foam on her upper lip. I wanted to lean over, lick it off, and kiss her before spreading her wide and fucking her on the counter.

I stumbled backward and rattled the espresso machine on the counter. Abby’s eyes flew open, but I busied myself making my own cup.

“It’s actually pretty good, Rafe. I hadn’t expected a famous soccer player such as yourself to know how to make a latte.”

“You can’t train for or play soccer twenty-four hours a day.”

“No, but as a pro, it probably consumed most of your time. And speaking of your career, it’s one of the things you have to promise to talk about if you want me to remain your wife.”

Your wife. The words on her lips sent a little thrill through me.

Okay, I must’ve had too much caffeine this morning because this was Abigail Wolfe we were talking about. Putting aside how love wasn’t for me, she was my little sister’s best friend. One who deserved so much better than me.

Think of your training facility. Right. Abby was part of a plan, one that would benefit the both of us, if she agreed to it.

I turned around. “So tell me what’s on this list of things I have to agree to.”

She swallowed her bite of brownie. Too bad there wasn’t any chocolate on her lips for me to lick off.

Focus, Mendoza.

Abby replied, “Well, the main ones are that we need to be honest with each other, you need to work on fixing things with your sister, and at the end of it, I want a big favor. I’m still not sure what it’ll be yet, but I have a few options—ranging from you buying me a house to destroying an ex to introducing me to some of your soccer friends.”

The thought of introducing Abby to other footballers—er, soccer players, yes, I needed to start thinking that way again—made me want to punch something. Or someone.

Which was ridiculous, as she wasn’t mine in any way. Except she is your wife.

I replied, “You can have just about anything, Abigail, provided I have enough funds left over to run my business and get it going.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Just how rich are you, then?”

“Enough.”

“That’s not very honest.”

I shrugged. “Too many former teammates got wrapped up in being rich and turned into complete assholes. I try not to. I buy what I need, donate to a few charities, and save or invest the rest. If you’re looking for ten private jets, a yacht, or some other such crap, I don’t have it.”

“I get seasick, so no thanks to a yacht, anyway.”

Part of me was relieved she didn’t push the money thing. My fame and fortune had always been a double-edged sword, for many reasons.

I asked, “You get seasick? Really? But you loved swimming in Lake Tahoe when you were little. Or even Lake Sonoma.”

“Ah, but swimming is different from being on a boat. I know it’s weird, since riding horses never really bothered me and most cars are okay. But boats are the worst. I learned that in high school during our classes’ senior trip to Catalina Island. Thank goodness for the BFF Circle hiding how much I puked my guts out. Luckily, I found a bracelet to help me on the way back.”

The BFF Circle were Abby, Katie, Amber, and my sister, Emmy. They’d been inseparable since elementary school.

And they’d been a nuisance to teenage me and West.

Not that I was going to think of West, who was yet another person I’d pushed away after my parents’ death.

I focused back on Abby. “I don’t get motion sickness of any kind.”

“But there has to be something that bothers you. Tell me.”

“Is this some kind of test, then?”

“Rafe, I’m just trying to get to know you a little. If you can’t even talk to me now, here in your kitchen, then how will you fare when the world is watching us if we stay married?”

“Will you be okay with the attention? Because the world, especially in Europe, will be watching us.”

“You’re changing the subject. But my answer? I think so. As long as you don’t have an ex who will send an army of fans after me.”

“If you mean someone like Nolan’s ex, then no. My longest relationship only lasted a few months.”

Fuck. Why had I shared that with her?

“Well, West went from no serious girlfriend ever to married to widow to married again. So I won’t hold it against you. However, you still haven’t told me something that bothers you.”

She stared at me expectantly. It should be easy to answer her.

However, I wasn’t one of those people who blurted things out freely. Hell, my default was to obsess over things—soccer or sex—and forget about my problems.

And while I didn’t know Abby well as an adult, as a kid, she’d loved to share everything and be the life of the party. I hadn’t seen much of that side of her since returning to Starry Hills, but I suspected that part of her still existed.

So if I wanted her to remain my wife, I’d have to try and meet her partway. So, even though it was like pulling teeth, I replied, “I don’t like roller coasters that go upside down. They make me feel sick, and one time as a boy, I had to rush to the bathroom and throw up.”

She shuddered. “I also don’t like the ones that go upside down or have a lot of turns. The one time we went to Disneyland before my dad died, I always stayed outside with West for the roller coaster-like rides. Don’t tell him I said anything, but West doesn’t like Space Mountain. At all.”

“So if we go to Disneyland, we can avoid the faster rides with the huge lines and save loads of time.”

“That would be perfect. To be honest, I always felt guilty going with the BFF Circle or my family and someone offering to wait with me.”

I hadn’t been to Disneyland since I was a teenager, but now I really wanted to take Abby. Buy her a silly hat, take a picture in front of the castle, and maybe even hold her close while we watched the night show.

Of course, that would only happen—maybe—if she remained my wife. So, even though I wanted to talk and tease Abby some more, it was time to get serious. “Have you made a decision yet about whether you want to stay married to me for a year or not?”

She nibbled on a brownie before answering, “I’m open to it, but I need to know a few more details first. What will the living arrangements be? How much time will you spend in Starry Hills versus England and elsewhere? How much do I have to play up the role? What will we tell our families? That kind of stuff.”

I sat across from her and downed the last of my coffee before answering. “Well, you’d live here with me, but you can sleep in the guest room. And I’ll be spending more time in Starry Hills than Manchester. I’ll need to make a couple of trips to the UK to tie up a few things, and you can come or stay here, your choice.”

“I’d like to go, if my family can spare me.”

“You want to keep working for them? Because you don’t have to. As my wife, I’d take care of you.”

“Thanks, but I need to keep busy.”

Probably to avoid getting stuck in the past, or thinking about her ex, or whatever shit had gone down in San Jose.

I could just nod and say that was fine. I had no problem with Abby working for her family.

And yet, I sensed she wanted more than to give tours or conduct wine tastings. So I blurted, “I plan to have a tutoring center at my training facility, mainly for the local community. However, I don’t have anyone to run it yet. Maybe you could do it.”

For a few seconds, she stared at me, her expression unreadable. Just as I thought maybe I’d fucked up—she could be done with teaching, for all I knew—she asked, “Do you have a curriculum? Or would I have to make it? What are your projected student numbers? Is it only for paying customers, or for anyone?”

Her questions gave me hope that she was interested. “There’s no curriculum yet, especially since it’ll depend on what people need. You could always hire help, for subjects you don’t know. And the center would be free and open to all students in Starry Hills. Anyone who comes from out of town will have a sliding fee, depending on their situation.”

She shifted in her seat, and then again, as she bit her bottom lip. I stared hard at her teeth and plump mouth, until her voice nearly made me jump as she said, “I’m interested, but there’s something you should know about me before you offer me the job. Especially since this whole fake marriage thing is to protect your business’s reputation.”

I frowned. “What do I need to know?”

She looked off to the side. “During my student teaching internship, my mentor teacher seduced me and tricked me into believing he was in love with me. So imagine my surprise when he announced his engagement to someone else on my last day.” She finally met my eyes, her expression sad and shameful. “And if I ever breathe a word of our affair to his now wife, he’s going to tell everyone I only got a passing grade because I slept with him. Not only that, he threatened to tell the world lies about me sleeping with students, too.” She sighed. “So you see, staying married to me might not be the best idea, after all, Rafe. I could bring a bigger scandal than any annulment.”