The Academic Bride: Billionaire Marriage Brokers Book One (7 page)

Chapter 14

Over the course of several days, Janel and Nick began communicating through sticky notes, desserts, and texts. Much to Janel’s relief, their texting communication came easy as long as she didn’t analyze the breaks. She’d text Nick right up until a class started and then she’d have to stash her phone, creating an hour-long pause between texts. She realized Nick probably did the same thing, and the pauses most likely meant he was working, not freaking out over what she typed.

Though she enjoyed e-flirting, Janel wished they’d have the chance to spend more time together. Their weekly planning meetings were held over the phone instead of over a meal, and usually happened during Nick’s lunch and her short break between classes. He swore that would change as soon as this project was over. Phone conversations were quick and to the point and left a lot to be desired. But this is what she’d signed up for, and as far as jobs go, this one was cake.

For Janel, the next month was a whirlwind of new students, new responsibilities, new clothes, and a new home. The house was great. In fact, it was better than great: it was her private playground. She ran every morning on the treadmill, except for Thursday mornings when Steve worked her through a new type of torture. The morning he tried to get her to Zumba was a morning she’d never live down. It was just too funny watching a guy that big salsa his way through the grapevine. Between her laughter and her lack of attention, she’d ended up tangled in some weight-resistant contraption, and it took Steve five minutes to get her out. At one point, she thought he’d have to call in the fire department to use the Jaws of Life. Not cool. They stuck to weightlifting and body conditioning after that.

She caught Nick in the kitchen a couple of times. Usually he was rinsing out a cereal bowl as she raced through to grab a granola bar and a breakfast shake on her way to class. There were several other people who worked in the house throughout the day, so it wasn’t uncommon to bump into someone. Nick, however, was a rare treat. And what a treat he was, with his button-up shirt rolled up at the cuffs and his tie flung over his shoulder so he didn’t spill on it. She full-on admitted that he was fun to look at. Janel found his easy masculine confidence attractive and looked forward to getting to know him better—if his schedule would ever let up!

***

About a week into October, Janel got a surprise text from Trish.

Big weekend. We need to shop.

Clicking over to her calendar, Janel realized that Saturday was marked in blue, blue being an event she and Nick would share. The mayor was hosting a masked ball for a fundraising event, and she was scheduled to go with Nick.

She quickly texted back:
Mask???

I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 3.

Thanks
.

She pushed the ball and costumes out of her mind in order to negotiate with the airlines. Her first paycheck would pay for the seats, and she wanted to get the travel arrangements in place.

***

The next afternoon, Janel settled into the passenger seat of Trish’s eco-friendly car.

Trish gave her a one-armed hug hello. “How are things going?”

Janel shrugged. “They’re fine.”

“Are you excited about the ball?”

“More like scared out of my mind.”

Trish patted her hand. “You’ll be fine.”

Janel thought about it. She was pretty used to the idea that she was married. Besides the move and the new apartment there wasn’t that much that changed in her life. She still did all the things she did before; she just slept in a different place and had much better technology. She smiled as her phone chirped.

How’s your day?
Nick asked.

Good. Shopping for something for the ball.

Can you grab me something too?

Janel felt her skin grow cold. She’d done other odd errands for Nick over the past month. Mostly stuff for the house like letting the electrician in or making sure he’d set the security system in the morning before she left; but she’d never shopped for him. She pressed her hands to her cheeks.

“What is it?” asked Trish.

“Nick wants me to pick him up something to wear to the ball.”

“So ...?”

“So, I’ve never bought anything like this for
myself
. I have no idea what women are supposed to wear, let alone a guy.”

“That’s why you have me. Text him back and tell him you have it covered.”

“If you say so.” Janel typed,
No problem.

Thanks. Any chance you’re making brownies tonight?

Janel tipped her screen so Trish couldn’t see it.
I was in the mood for peanut butter cookies.

With chocolate chunks?

Maybe.

Can’t wait to try them!

Two hours and a dozen dresses later, Janel finally had a completed look for the ball. The store had a complementary costume for a man and Trish swore it was perfect.

“It’s better that you go as a matching couple to solidify your marital status in people’s eyes. Nothing says ‘solid couple’ like matching costumes,” she said.

After saying goodbye to Trish, Janel hauled the garment bags up the stairs to her room. The enormous walk-in closet was only partially filled with her things, so she had a full rod to commit to the dress and suit. As she pulled the heavy skirts out so they wouldn’t wrinkle, she debated on taking Nick’s to his room. In all the weeks she’d spent in the house, she’d never once set foot in the master suite. It was just too personal to walk into a man’s bedroom and she wanted him to trust her not to snoop, so she gave him his space.

***

At one o’clock on Saturday afternoon, Brenda marched into Nick’s office and kicked him out. “You have to stop at the barber’s for a shave before the ball tonight.”

He panicked. “The ball’s tonight? I didn’t get a costume.”

“I thought you said Janel was taking care of that.”

Nick rubbed his short beard. He hadn’t had time to shave for four days, and it was starting to itch.

He quickly texted Janel:
Did you find a costume for me?

Yes. Hope you don’t mind, we match.

Nick grinned. He’d seen couples come in matching costumes to previous fundraisers and thought the idea was great.
Don’t mind. Can you send a pic?

When the image came through, he groaned. She’d gone medieval on him. The pants would most likely be tight, and the lace at the collar would itch. The evening just went from bearable to stifling.

Do you like?

It’s fine. I’ll be home by 5:30.

As Nick slid his phone into his pocket, he realized that this was the first night since they’d been married that he would be home before dark, and the first time he’d take his wife on a real date.  Over the last several weeks, he’d spent a lot of time texting her and even more time thinking about her. He was nervous that he’d built her up in his mind only to be disappointed that night.

He showed the picture to the barber, and the man shaped his scruff into a pointed goatee and trimmed his hair so it looked more like he meant to have longer hair and not so much like he hadn’t had a haircut in six weeks. He liked the length, but the waves tended to get unruly if let go for too long.

Making it home with seconds to spare, he rushed up the stairs. Janel’s door was open. Nick paused at the threshold, acutely aware that this moment marked a change for him and Janel.

They’d been friendly and flirty for a month, just not in person. The stranger he’d brought home on their wedding day was long gone. He’d connected with Janel, albeit through text messages, in a way that was hard for him to believe. Their connection was obvious by the way she got his jokes, encouraged him when he was discouraged, and kept a steady supply of home-baked goods on hand. He knocked before pushing the door open wide.

She wasn’t in the room, but he could hear music coming from the bathroom. He went to the closed door and knocked loudly. There was a scream from the other side, and he quickly yelled, “It’s Nick.”

“Nick? You scared the living ... you scared me.”

“Sorry. I need to get my costume.”

“It’s in here, just a second.”

Nick placed his hand against the doorframe and tapped his finger while he waited.

It didn’t take long before Janel opened the door. Her hair was already piled on her head in a fancy array of curls. Soft tendrils framed her face, and Nick noticed she had a long and elegant neck.

“I was just about to put on the gown. Your suit is in my closet.”

Following her into the master closet, Nick took in her cotton shorts and tank top. She had a thin frame, but her body had shape; she looked fit and healthy in a way that had his mind blinking like a cursor waiting for someone to type a word.

“Here you go.”

Looking quickly to the clothes on the hanger so she wouldn’t notice him noticing her, Nick suppressed a groan. No doubt Dillan would have a field day with his ensemble. He usually went as James Bond, and one year he’d donned a Zorro costume, but he had never worn lace. Maybe he could leave that part off. He grabbed the hangar.

“How long till you’re ready?” he snapped.

“About twenty minutes.”

“Perfect, I’ll meet you in the sitting room.”

Hurrying, Nick chastised himself for being short with Janel. He’d have to communicate clearer. They worked so well together, he almost thought she could read his mind—which was ridiculous considering the short amount of time that they’d been married.

After a quick rinse in the shower, he struggled into the tight pants and loose shirt. He shrugged on the jacket with a grunt. It was made of velvet and would be too warm for October. Looking at the pile of leather and lace still on his bed, he shuddered. He did his best to put things where they should go, but the costume just wasn’t coming together.

He needed this night to go well. There were several companies he wanted to work with; he had so many big ideas and just needed the resources to bring them to fruition. Arriving late, in a frenzy, and in a ridiculous costume would put him at a disadvantage. What was Janel thinking?

In the midst of trying to wrap a piece of leather around his shoulder he heard a light knock on the door.

“Nick, um, I think we’re going to be late.”

Nick looked at the clock on his nightstand, and this time he didn’t suppress his groan. Cursing, he tucked everything under one arm, including the ridiculous boots, and stormed to the door. He yanked it open, marched past Janel, and dumped it all on the couch. “You got me a defective costume,” he said. “You need to ask me before you pick something that requires an instruction manual.” He picked up a wad of lace. “I don’t even know what this is.” He shook it and threw it on the couch.

He pulled the jacket off as he turned to face her. His anger floated away like clouds on a summer afternoon. His arm got stuck halfway out and halfway in the jacket. Was he trying to put it on or take it off? He couldn’t remember.

Janel’s bare shoulders were smooth and creamy against the deep purple dress. It hugged her figure and made a heart shape over her bodice, giving her the appearance of a generous figure. The skirts were full and he couldn’t see her legs, but the grace in which she carried herself was enough to knock him speechless. She bit her lip, and he immediately felt guilty for snapping at her. He pulled the jacket on.

She blinked a few times as she approached the couch, and he hoped she wasn’t trying to hold back tears. “I’m sorry. I was told most couples wear these types of costumes to the ball.”

Nick sagged like a forgotten house plant. “Other people do, but I don’t.”

“I’m sorry.”

Nick thought of all the couples he’d seen and somewhat envied because of their boldness for wearing matching costumes. “You know what? I’ve never gone to the ball with a wife. Tonight will be full of firsts.”

Janel smiled. “It’s my first ball—ever.”

“Then I guess we should try to be on time.” He looked down at his clothes. “You’d think a guy who could build a computer from scraps would be able to get dressed.”

Janel chuckled. “I think we can figure this out.” She pulled his arms straight out to the sides and told him to keep them there. Then, she proceeded to wrap the leather pieces around his forearms and tie the laces. She grabbed what turned out to be a belt and slid it around his waist. When she leaned in close, he could smell coconuts and vanilla. It was an exotic combination, and he found himself closing his eyes and getting lost in the scent.

All too quickly, Janel pronounced him ready to go. He slid on the boots, which were surprisingly comfortable, and asked, “How do I look?”

Janel appraised him, her eyes sliding over him like a caress. “You look dashing.”

He raised one eyebrow. “Dashing?”

“Yes. Dashing.” Reaching up she brushed her fingers over his goatee. “This is the perfect touch.” She looked up into his eyes, her fingers softly resting just below his lips.