An Offer He Can't Refuse

Chapter One

The name of the bar was Lucky Lady and Brittany Phillips couldn’t think of a more ironic name given her situation. A couple of healthy ferns dangled from the ceiling, lending the worn establishment a bit of color. The floors were littered with peanut shells and the scarred tables cried out for a good sandpapering—a job she’d gladly take on if it would help her forget that she was here to find a husband. Someone tall, dark and temporary.

Jen Moore, Brittany’s friend, gestured with her chin toward the back of the room. “What about those two guys over there?”

The dim light and haze of smoke made Brittany squint as she peered over her shoulder. She jerked her head back toward her friend. “You’d let me marry one of those guys? One looks like he’s fallen off a bucking bronco, and the other can’t be a day under eighty. Could we at least try to find a guy with a full set of teeth?”

“Not them,” Jen said, giving the toothless man a fleeting smile. “Wait a few seconds and then look again. Further toward the back. They look totally out of place in this joint.”

Brittany sighed. Clearly, Jen’s dogged determination had already set in. Her friend wasn’t going to let her give up so easily this time. If Brittany didn’t find a husband soon, her cousin, Heather, would have control over the trust fund set up by her grandfather. Heather had a gambling problem; the money would be gone in an instant. Her stomach gurgled. “I don’t think I can go through with this.”

“You said earlier that you had no choice.” Jen placed a hand over Brittany’s.

“Those kids are counting on you.”

“But hiring a stranger to be my husband?” Brittany rubbed her temple.

“The marriage will be over before you know it,” Jen said with a snap of her fingers. “In three months you’ll be free again, not to mention rich.”

“You’re not going to let up, are you?”

“Nope. Now how about those two guys I mentioned earlier?”

Brittany sighed, then purposely dropped her napkin to the floor. When she leaned over to pick it up, she peered across the room and this time spotted two younger men sitting at a table at the back of the room. The one on the left was blonde, and even with an upside down, worm’s-eye view, she could see that he didn’t look happy. The guy next to him, on the other hand, was dark-haired and broad-shouldered, with eyes the color of mocha...eyes that were focused right on her.

She jerked upwards and banged her head on the table. “Ow!”

Jen winced. “Are you okay?”

“Why didn’t you tell me he was looking this way?”

“He wasn’t. Not until he caught you staring at him.”

Brittany frowned. “I wasn’t staring.”

“I’m afraid looking at someone fixedly with eyes wide open for more than a few seconds is pretty much considered staring.”

Brittany shrugged. “It doesn’t matter anyhow. I’m not going over there. They’re probably both married.”

“There’s only one way to find out,” Jen said. “So, which one is it going to be?”

The idea of approaching the dark-haired Adonis made Brittany’s insides churn. For the past five years she’d volunteered at The Community for Children (CFC). Besides counseling, her specialty was keeping the kids busy. She organized picnics, baseball games, and birthday parties, and was rewarded with smiles and hugs. Though she liked her day job working as a CPA at a local firm, it was the kids at the Center who gave her life meaning.

Unfortunately, CFC needed lots of money. Without it the center would go under and most of the kids she’d grown close to would have nowhere to go. “Three months with a stranger before I turn thirty,” Brittany said under her breath. “No big deal, right?” She clasped and unclasped her hands.

“Right! Three measly months, and then you inherit nearly two million bucks. A third of the time it takes to carry a baby to full term,” Jen added enthusiastically. “Otherwise, your greedy cousin Heather gets every penny and everybody loses.”

Until last month, Brittany hadn’t cared about the trust fund money. Her grandfather had known that, which is why upon his deathbed two years ago he had hired a lawyer to write up a new will, hoping to rouse Brittany into action by offering her two million dollars to find a man worth marrying. But there were two problems. The will stated that she had to stay married for at least three months before her thirtieth birthday. And worse than that, the executor of the will, a thin bald prudish man, would be keeping an eye on her and her new husband to determine whether her marriage was based on true love. Unfortunately, Brittany’s experiences with men, including her own father, were less than inspirational--to the point where not even millions of dollars seemed worth the bother. Until three weeks ago, when she learned that the Center would be shut down. The kids at CFC needed her.

“So?” Jen asked again, snapping her from her thoughts. “Who’s going to be the lucky man?”

Brittany stole another glance. The dark-haired man smiled at her, causing chills to dance across her arms. She gave him a perfunctory nod before turning away. “Let’s keep looking, Jen. I mean, even if he...I mean even if they aren’t married, it wouldn’t work. He’s too...too--”

“Too darn good looking?”

Brittany arched a brow. “Now that you mention it, yes. He must have a whole slew of girlfriends. Look at him. He’s smiling at us with the kind of confidence that comes with lots of experience. He probably thinks he’s God’s gift to women.”

“And he’d be right,” Jen said wistfully.

Brittany groaned.

“This is ridiculous,” Jen said with a smack of her hand to the table. “We’ve been planning this for weeks. Last night the guy I picked out for you was too tall and the next one too short. Too smart, too pale, too this, too that.” Jen crossed her arms over her chest and looked Brittany square in the eye. “You know what? I think you’re chicken. The guy is mouth-watering delicious to look at, and you’re shakin’ in your ugly sandals at the thought of living with such a gorgeous creature. I bet you're afraid you might actually enjoy it.”

“What do you mean ugly sandals?” Brittany examined her footwear.

“Put it this way. You could’ve made this whole thing a lot easier if you’d worn the outfit I picked out for you.”

“I’d go naked first.”

“That would work.”

They both laughed, then Brittany wrinkled her nose. “What’s wrong with what I have on?”

“You’ve got to be kidding. That dress screams librarian. And your face--you have ‘keep away’ written all over it.”

“I do not.”

“You do, too. And why you would wear those thick eyeglasses when you have perfectly good contacts at home makes me wonder about you. You’ve worn those glasses every single time we’ve gone out in the past two weeks. Not to mention those sandals...your feet look twice as--”

“Okay, okay, I get the picture. But any man who agrees to this scheme of ours is going to have to take me as I am. I’m paying him to sign a marriage license. I’m not trying to seduce him.”

Jen lifted a hand in surrender. “They’re your feet.”

Brittany sighed, then took another peek at the stranger across the room. Her insides began to do strange things. He was talking to his friend which gave her a chance to visualize approaching him--asking him to be her husband. When he laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkled. She saw a flash of white teeth. What would it be like, she wondered, to kiss a man like that? “I can’t do this.”

“Of course you can. And the guy you keep staring at will be perfect.”

***

Jackson Lang’s face felt stiff from all the smiling he was doing. If Brittany Phillips didn’t approach them soon, he was going to have to make the first move. How the hell did he get himself into these predicaments?

His friend Matt leaned back against the spindly chair and tapped his fingers on the table. Not to the rhythm of the country music, but in obvious boredom. “Jackson, buddy, let’s get out of here. We should be down at Ziggy’s checking out the side dishes, if you know what I mean.”

Jackson knew exactly what his friend meant. Unfortunately, he also knew where he had to be--right here at Lucky Lady. “See those women over there?”

Matt glanced across the room. “Are you serious?”

“Completely.”

Matt didn’t look convinced. “Is this some kind of joke? This sudden urge of yours to go bar hopping--this place, those girls? They don’t look like your type, Jackson. The redhead looks as if she’s ready to eat us up in one bite, and the other one looks like a librarian who’s just been told to strip in public.”

Matt scratched his chin, then narrowed his eyes as if he were on to Jackson. “If I didn’t know better, I’d accuse you of stalking. I could’ve sworn I saw those same women at the last place you dragged me to.”

Jackson ignored him, giving the women his best turn-the-girls-on smile when they looked at him again.

“They’re coming this way.” Matt started to get up from his chair. “That’s it, I’m outta here.”

“Sit,” Jackson said. “I want to hear what they have to say. Then we’ll go.”

Matt plunked himself back into his seat. He watched the two women make a path around the bar, past the jukebox, heading their way. Jackson scolded himself for being here and for making promises he wasn’t sure he could keep.

Accidentally bumping into Brittany Phillips this past week had proven to be more difficult than he’d envisioned. The pictures he’d seen of her didn’t do her justice. She had black hair, all right, but it was tied tightly in a knot at the top of her head, making it hard to tell if it was long or short, frizzy or straight. Her billowing dress and clunky shoes left a lot to be desired, but still...she couldn’t fool him. He knew an attractive woman when he saw one. None of that mattered, he reminded himself. According to Heather, her cousin Brittany was a greedy, selfish woman whose bottom line was cold hard cash.

“Mind if we have a seat?” the woman with Brittany asked in a cheery voice.

Matt finished his beer in one gulp.

Jackson stood and pulled out a couple of chairs. “Please do.”

“I’m Jennifer and this is Brittany,” she said, taking an offered seat. “Are you two from around here?”

“Santa Monica--” Jackson began.

“And we hate to cut this short,” Matt interrupted, “but we were just about to leave.”

Jackson smiled tightly. “This is Matt, I’m Jackson. My friend here’s eager to try out that new place, Ziggy’s, on Fifth Street. How about the two of you joining us?”

Jennifer’s face lit up. “We would love to--”

“But we can’t,” Brittany broke in. “Don’t let us stop you two, though. Really. Go right ahead.” She made a motion with her hands, as if she were shooing away a couple of stray dogs.

Matt looked relieved and stood up. Then he glanced at Jackson and plopped back down in his seat, clearly frustrated.

Jackson noticed the way Brittany smiled when she thought she’d gotten rid of them. Not a nervous, polite curve of the lips like before, but what looked to him like a genuine smile of relief. The smile quickly faded when she realized they weren’t jumping up to leave. Jackson couldn’t help but wonder why she would be disappointed. According to Heather, Brittany Phillips needed a husband fast. She didn’t have time to be choosy. He felt ridiculously offended. “Can I buy you two a drink before we go?”

“Certainly,” Jennifer said. “I’ll have a glass of wine. No, make that champagne. It reminds me of weddings. Speaking of which, are either of you married?”

Matt started choking on a peanut he’d just popped into his mouth, prompting Jennifer to pound on his back.

Brittany looked horrified.

“Have you two been friends long?” Jackson asked Brittany.

“Oh, no...I mean, yes,” Brittany told him. “I’m afraid so.”

He smiled. “What can I get you to drink?”

With her lips curved into a tenuous smile, he noticed big blue eyes behind her thick-rimmed glasses.

“Nothing for me, thanks.”

“How about water?” Without waiting for a response, he signaled for the waitress and ordered two beers, champagne, and a glass of water.

Jennifer gave Matt one last pat on the back and said, “I hope I wasn’t too candid. People always tell me I shouldn’t be so frank, but—”

“No,” Matt interrupted, raising a hand to stop her from explaining, “Neither of us are married.”

Jennifer’s eyes widened. “Engaged? Any significant other?”

Matt gave Jackson a look that told him he owed him one, and then he said, “Nope. Not married and no significant other, right buddy?”

Jackson nodded.

***

Brittany noticed Jen’s arched brows, her friend’s not so subtle reminder to spit it out and get things rolling. Neither man was attached, which meant the rest was up to her. Time to pop the question. But she could hardly think, let alone speak. Her mouth felt dry, her palms moist. Tom Petty sang out, “I’m free...free falling,” and she told herself over and over again that this was a business deal. Nothing more. She was an accountant. She dealt with clients every day. So what was the problem? All he could say was no, and wouldn’t that be a relief?

“Are you okay?” Jackson asked her.

Everyone glanced Brittany’s way. “I’m fine, really.” Wringing her hands, she looked straight into Jackson’s cool brown eyes. He smiled, encouraging her to say what was on her mind. He could work magic with those eyes.

Business, she reminded herself, though her better judgment sensed that with Jackson it would be something else altogether. She took a deep breath, and said to Jackson. “I have a very important question to—” she turned abruptly toward Matt instead “—to ask you.”

Matt drew a finger to his chest, looking surprised and more than worried that the attention was now focused on him.

She nodded. Brittany didn’t know what made her change her mind, exactly. Maybe Matt looked safer, a little less movie-star gorgeous. “I have an offer to make you that I hope you can’t refuse.” Although they were in the middle of a crowded bar, she felt suffocated by the silence around her. “I need a husband.”

As if she had leprosy, Matt pushed away from the table. “And?”

She wrung her hands in her lap. “And I was hoping you might be interested.”

Matt’s jaw dropped, but no words came out.

“I’ll pay you one hundred thousand dollars after three months of marriage,” she quickly added. Her throat felt drier than a martini, but somehow she managed to blurt out all the details of her proposal.

Jackson winked after she finished, launching her right back to reality, which at the moment seemed to be analogous to the Twilight Zone.

Matt’s wide-eyed look of disbelief would have been laughable if her situation wasn’t so darn depressing.

“Let me get this straight,” Matt said, laying both palms flat on his chest. “You want me to marry you for three months. During that time I am supposed to pretend to be madly in love with you in front of your family and friends?” He scratched his chin, making the seconds feel like hours. “Feel free to stop me if I heard wrong.”

Nobody said a word.

“When the three months are up,” Matt continued, “you hand me a check in the amount of one hundred thousand dollars to stay out of your life forever. Do I have it all straight?”

A lump formed in Brittany’s throat. “That’s right,” she said, despising the uncertainty in her voice and the humiliation burning inside of her. Begging some stranger to marry her for money. What was she doing? If he refused, she wouldn’t put herself through this again.

Her stomach knotted as she waited for an answer.

Matt burst out laughing. People at a nearby table looked over to see what was so amusing. Brittany’s cheeks heated.

For the first time in her life, Jen appeared to be speechless.

Brittany’s temples throbbed. The headache she’d been trying to overlook for the past hour burst forth, hitting the front of her skull with a blinding flash. She shut her eyes, put a hand to her forehead, and waited for the bright light to dissolve. It wasn’t working. She could see the boys in sixth grade laughing at her, teasing her about her weight, pulling her hair at recess and calling her names. And then flash forward to prom night. She could see her father stooped over in a drunken laughter after telling her she looked like the pumpkin that Cinderella rode in.

And now this man—a complete stranger, laughing at her.

“Sorry,” Matt said, “I don’t mean to be rude. It’s just that I’m definitely not the man you’re looking for, not even close. I’m not the marrying type and neither is my friend here.” He slapped Jackson on the back and stood up. When Jackson didn’t budge, he added, “Then again, you never know. It’s been an interesting night. I’ve gotta go, buddy. Ladies, it’s been a pleasure.”

The waitress returned with their drinks. Matt threw a few bills on her tray and walked away.

Brittany watched him leave.

Jackson didn’t try to stop him. Instead, he reached over and touched her arm. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Please, go with your friend. Don’t let us keep you.”

Jen gave him an apologetic shrug of her shoulders.

“You really need a husband?” he asked.

As Brittany massaged the ache at her temple, she looked deep into the man’s eyes. “It may sound comical to you and your friend, but unfortunately, it’s not a joke. My grandfather thought he was doing me a favor by forcing me to marry.”

Appearing to consider her words, he regarded her for a moment, his eyes dark, thoughtful. He raked his hand through his hair and said, “I guess it’s settled then.”

“What’s settled?”

“I’ll do it.”

Brittany blinked. “Do what?”

“I’ll marry you.”

Jen grinned.

Brittany pushed her glasses a notch higher and stared at him with disbelief. Clearly, Jackson was dark—his hair, his shadowed jaw, his eyes. He also came across as dauntless, wearing confidence as if it were cologne. How could she risk being around a man like him? Her heart had been broken too many times, hanging together by a thread. “I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “This was a mistake. For the first time in weeks I’m beginning to see what a bad idea this was.”

Jen shot her a murderous look from across the table.

“I only made the offer because you struck me as sort of desperate,” Jackson admitted.

Brittany snorted. “I am not desperate.”

He raised both hands as if in surrender. “I meant your situation. I thought you were—”

“Desperate,” Brittany finished for him, nauseated by the realization that he was right.

His mouth formed a crooked smile. “I guess that’s what I meant after all.”

Brittany wondered why he was doing this. He didn’t know her from Eve, but he was offering to marry her. What kind of man would marry a stranger for money? A very poor one, she thought. But with his leather jacket and expensive-looking watch he appeared to be far from lacking. More than likely he was wondering what kind of woman would pay a complete stranger to be her husband. She frowned. If only she didn’t have to stoop to something so...unethical...so risky...so downright awful.

Brittany folded her arms across her chest. “Why?” she asked, “Why would you do it?”

“Because I promised myself that I would do one good deed a week. This pretty much takes care of the next few years.”

“Very funny.”

He didn’t flinch. “Let’s just say that I have my reasons, and I would prefer to keep them just that—mine.”

“Well, that’s fine,” Brittany said, slightly annoyed by his mystery-man attitude, “but I’ll need your first and last name at the very least.”

“Jackson Lang,” he offered.

“If you’re serious about this, Mr. Lang, I’m sure you won’t mind if I do a background check on you first. Something I would do for any new client.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, especially since I plan to do the same.”

She plunked a hand on her chest. “A background check on me?”

“You have something to hide?”

Jen laughed, breaking into their exchange. “It would take all of two minutes to learn about Brittany Phillips. She has no social life whatsoever, she’s responsible, fairly dependable, and she—”

One piercing glare was all it took to stop Jen. Brittany turned back to talk to Jackson. “How about we meet again in a few days to discuss this further?”

Jackson nodded. “Wednesday’s good. At the Hollywood Café on the corner of Second and Fifth?”

“It would have to be after work.”

“Six-thirty then.”

They all stood. Brittany shook his hand when he offered it. His touch sent a wave of hot tingles up her arm. Taking note of his long, tanned fingers, and feeling the way her body responded in pulsating flutters, she jerked her hand away, unable to bury the feeling that she was making a deal with the devil...and she was about to get seriously burned.