Rough Around the Edges Read online

  “Unless they start to wonder why there’s a pair of tiny legs sticking out from under the blanket I have thrown over my shoulder,” Kitt quipped. It was an awkward bit of camouflage at best, she thought, looking down at the way the blanket was arranged over her.

  The nurse said something in reply, but it was lost on O’Rourke. He’d stopped listening to the exchange as he replayed something the nurse had said earlier in his mind. He’d called them a family. A solid core.

  Maybe this was it. The opportunity he was praying for. Why not?

  Excitement began to pulse through his veins as the idea took on shape. Granted, it wasn’t a new idea. It was actually something that one of his friends at the pub had thrown his way last night before he’d left, half in jest, half because the other man was in his cups and going down for the third time.

  At the time, the idea had been laughably ludicrous. He’d put it out of his mind two seconds after it was out of O’Brien’s mouth.

  But now it was back again and taking on a life of its own.

  Desperate men discovered they were capable of desperate things and he was no different. Bridgette had called him just before he’d left this morning to tell him that Brennan had been accepted by the university. Another dream in jeopardy. Going to the university meant books and tuition. The money had to come from somewhere.

  Right, from big brother who was on the cusp of being a success in California.

  All he needed was a little more time.

  Turning the instant the nurse left the room, O’Rourke looked at Kitt and spoke before his courage flagged or his common sense took over.

  “Kitt, would you like to marry me?”

  Shawna squealed as her mother’s arm tightened around her.

  Chapter Five

  “Excuse me?” It took effort for Kitt to keep her jaw from dropping. She had to have misheard him. And yet, he was looking at her as if he expected an answer. “Did you just say…?”

  O’Rourke nodded, moving closer to her bed. “Will you marry me? Yes, I did.”

  She moved her arm more protectively around the baby nursing at her breast, taking care to keep the cotton blanket covering her in place. Kitt never took her eyes off his face. He was playing some kind of cruel joke.

  Her mouth hardened. “Aren’t you a little early for April Fool’s Day?”

  He’d never been much of a salesman. He’d always let the facts and ideas speak for themselves. But in this case, Kitt didn’t know the facts, so it was up to him to tell her. And convince her that this wasn’t all an insane scheme.

  O’Rourke had no idea where someone with polish would begin. He did what he normally did, he just plunged in. “The only thing I’m trying to be early for is my deportation—by derailing it.” That just served to confuse her, he thought, seeing the look in her eyes. “Look, I realize that this probably must sound just a little crazy to you—”

  “Just a little,” she allowed, trying to make sense out of what he was saying. She didn’t know whether to be insulted or just vaguely amused. Because he’d come to her aid when she’d really needed someone, Kitt decided to choose the latter.

  “And maybe it is,” he agreed, hooking his thumbs in his back pockets as he looked at her, “but the way I see it, we’ve both got a problem—”

  Very carefully, she shifted Shawna over to her other breast, then raised her eyes to look at O’Rourke. He had to see how ridiculous this all sounded.

  “The way I see it, you’re the one with the bigger problem if you go around proposing to women you don’t know.”

  He hadn’t phrased it right, he thought, annoyed with himself. O’Rourke tried again. “This isn’t a marriage proposal—”

  Maybe there was something wrong with him after all and she was being a little too blasé, Kitt thought. “Funny, I thought the words ‘will you marry me’ were a dead giveaway that it was a marriage proposal.”

  The woman was never going to get married to anyone if she kept interrupting people who were spilling out their guts to her like this. “No,” he contradicted her firmly, “it’s a business proposal. As in a business arrangement,” O’Rourke clarified. “You need a place to stay and some financial help to get you back on your feet. I need a wife to remain in this country—”

  Okay, he wasn’t dangerous, just a little deranged. Kitt said the first thing that occurred to her. “Isn’t getting married to stay here rather a drastic step to take?”

  He laughed shortly. Yes, it was drastic, but what choice did he have? “Believe me, if there were any other way to do this, I would be doing it.”

  Well, she’d certainly set herself up for that one. He made her sound as if she was a last resort. Kitt looked down at the top of her daughter’s head, all that was visible as she nursed Shawna. “There’s that head-turning, Irish charm again.”

  O’Rourke dug his hands deep into his pockets again and swore silently. He wasn’t any good at this.

  “Sorry, that didn’t come out quite right, but I am a man in a desperate situation.” As if he was working with a blueprint, he laid it all out for her. “I’ve sunk every dime I have into making a go of this business I’ve started, and if I have to leave the country now, then I’ll lose everything.”

  This man meant nothing to her, she argued with herself. There was no reason to feel guilt creeping in. And yet, she did. Guilt because he was asking her to help and she wasn’t jumping in to do it. O’Rourke’s fate was temporarily in her hands and she didn’t like that feeling.

  “I’m sure that if you appeal to someone—”

  His eyes held hers and he saw her for what she was. His last hope. “I’m appealing to you.”

  Yes, you are.

  The thought came to her out of the blue, snatching her breath away. Where had that come from and what was the matter with her? She’d just given birth and lost everything. Being attracted to a man, even in a minor way, should be the last thing on her mind.

  Shutting out the thought, she concentrated on making sense out of what he was saying to her. “I mean appeal to someone in the government. Talk to someone at immigration. Someone has to listen.”

  She didn’t look that naive, he thought. “No, they won’t,” he contradicted. “And even if they did listen, it’d be too late. These things, if they evolve at all, take time. Time’s the one thing I don’t have. I’ve got thirteen days to find a way to stay in this grand and glorious country of yours.” And he felt every one of those precious minutes as they ticked away, forever slipping out of his grasp. “Thirteen days in which to find a solution so that Brennan can attend the university and Bridgette can go on with her nursing school and Donovan can—”

  Finished nursing, Kitt eased Shawna away from her breast, sliding the gown back into place before moving the cotton blanket. Very gently, she placed the infant against her shoulder and patted the tiny back, waiting for a telltale burp.

  “Who are all these people?” He was rattling off names that meant nothing to her. “Friends of yours?”

  “Relatives of mine,” he corrected her. “My brothers and sisters.”

  O’Rourke’d sounded as if he was about to pick up steam when she’d interrupted him. “Just how many brothers and sisters are there?”

  “Five, not counting me.” He watched Kitt pat concentric circles along the baby’s back. “I told you that last night.”

  The baby emitted a small sound that was close enough to a burp to satisfy Kitt. She released the breath she’d been holding.

  “I was a little busy at the time. I didn’t take in everything you said. Five, huh?” Because of what she’d just been through, Kitt’s sympathy immediately went out to O’Rourke’s mother.

  “Yes, and I’m the oldest.” He raised his eyes to hers in silent query, indicating Shawna. When she nodded, he took the infant from her. But instead of returning her immediately to the bassinet, he held the now dozing baby in his arms for a moment, gazing down at the small, round face. His siblings had all been this size once, and he’d
held almost all of them the way he was now holding Shawna. “The one they’re counting on.”

  And in truth, he knew he wouldn’t have it any other way. He was the patriarch of the family and it was a position he had both made peace with and wanted.

  O’Rourke looked up at Kitt, waiting for her response.

  He had beautiful eyes, she realized. She felt a little like a deer, caught in the headlights of an oncoming car, except that there was no fear involved. There was, instead, a fascination that made it almost impossible for her to look away.

  “So, if you don’t stay in this country…” She let her voice trail off.

  “All their dreams get put on hold because mine are,” he concluded. He placed Shawna back into her bassinet. The infant went on sleeping. “If not destroyed forever.” He was being dramatic and he knew it, but he needed to get her on his side.

  Kitt folded her hands in her lap before her, sighing. “Boy, you sure know how to work a guilt trip with the best of them, don’t you?” she quipped. “My grandmother had nothing on you.” And Nana had been a veteran, she recalled.

  She paused, knowing that what she was considering was crazy. But marriages had been undertaken for less. Some people married at the end of a short, whirlwind romance punctuated by wild, passionate joinings. She knew one couple who had married after knowing each other for only a month. They’d lived to repent the rash move for the rest of their lives.

  How much worse than that was this? Not much, in her book. Maybe it was even better. At least it seemed nobler.

  Kitt slanted her glance toward O’Rourke. “If I say yes—if,” she emphasized, putting her hand up to forestall any words from him until she was ready to relinquish the floor. “How long will this ‘marriage’ be for and what do I get out of it in exchange?” She knew she was being cold, but that was the only way she could get herself to deal with any of this. Cold and detached. “And before we go any further, exactly what sort of ‘expectations’ are you going to have of me?”

  He knew what she was asking. If she had to worry about him getting any amorous inclinations toward her. “You’ll be my wife in name only.” He wanted to be completely up front with her. “The only time you’ll have to pretend any sort of affection toward me is when the INS agent questions us.”

  She’d completely forgotten about that part. “We’re going to be interrogated?” In general she did well under pressure, but not when it came to doing something that could place her on the wrong side of the law.

  “In a manner of speaking,” O’Rourke answered offhandedly. “The INS frowns on bogus marriages entered into for the sole purpose of keeping an alien in the country.”

  Which described their proposed union to a tee. “Frowns I can handle. What else do they do?”

  He didn’t want to spend the afternoon being the INS’s press secretary. Or sabotaging his only chance. “That’s not important. If we convince them that this is an actual love match, there shouldn’t be a problem.” He glanced at the sleeping baby. Funny how some things just came together when you needed them. He’d wished for a miracle last night and now it seemed that he might have just gotten one. As long as the miracle agreed. “And your just having given birth helps to make things believable.”

  How convenient for her to give birth at such an opportune time, she thought sarcastically. “You intend to say you’re the father?”

  O’Rourke shrugged. It wasn’t that far-fetched. “Everyone else is already saying it—”

  Who was he trying to convince, her or himself? “One wanna-be advise-columnist policeman and a nurse who made a natural mistake do not technically qualify as ‘everybody.”’

  He realized he was rationalizing. Worse, he was clutching at straws. That wasn’t like him.

  O’Rourke made himself back away and give her breathing space, at least emotionally.

  “You’re right,” he told her, taking her hands in his. “They don’t matter. The only one who matters in this is you.” He made his best pitch. “If you do me this favor, there’ll be a substantial amount of money at the end of the allotted time for you. Until then, I’ll give you a roof over your head and provide for you and the baby.”

  Her independent streak bristled, but she left her hands where they were. “I’m perfectly capable of earning a living for myself and Shawna.”

  As he spoke, he slowly ran his thumbs along the inside of her hands, underscoring his point. And managing to unsettle himself in the bargain. “No one’s disputing that, but you said you were out of a job and until you find one, by your own admission, you’re out of funds.”

  She hated this, hated being in this position. Raising her head, she could feel everything within her rebelling. “So what you’re saying is that I’m basically selling myself to you—”

  “Leasing,” O’Rourke corrected her, struggling not to just throw his hands up and say the hell with it.

  He wasn’t accustomed to begging, not even when the recipient of his pleas was a woman who would have easily gladdened the heart of any normal man with normal inclinations. Something he couldn’t allow himself to experience until he brought his dream to successful fruition.

  “I prefer the term ‘leasing,”’ he reiterated. “And it would be getting me out of one huge jam, not to mention saving—”

  “—Bridgette, Brennan, Donovan and who knows who else, yes, I know,” she said.

  Kitt sighed, drawing her hands away, damning Jeffrey for putting her in a position to even consider this. She shut her eyes. She had to be crazy. She was actually considering it.

  But what choice did she have? With no money, no job and nowhere to go, she wasn’t exactly chock-full of options here herself. Their friendship aside, staying with Sylvia would feel too much like charity to her.

  Here at least she would be “paying” for what she was getting. Kitt opened her eyes to find him watching her. Something fluttered in her stomach.

  That was probably a sign to turn him down. She ignored it. “And you won’t be expecting any connubial rights?”

  “I have no connubial rights,” he told her flatly. “What I have are obligations.” He read what looked like doubt in her eyes. “Besides, someone once said I didn’t have the time to kiss a woman, much less do anything else with her.”

  “I hope it wasn’t a girlfriend who said it.”

  One corner of his mouth lifted slightly in amusement. And remembrance. “It was.”

  She was on the verge of saying yes. “Maybe I will be safe at that.”

  He took her hand to silently seal the agreement. “You’ll be safe, Kitt-with-two-t’s, I promise you that.” He wanted her to feel safe. “I can give you a list of references to check out so that you can assure yourself you’re not throwing your lot in with some madman newly escaped from the insane asylum.”

  His choice of disclaimers amused her. She felt herself beginning to relax. Maybe this was a good thing she was doing. “Comforting.”

  By nature he wasn’t all that talkative. But he felt immensely relieved right now, as if a huge boulder had been removed from his chest. That sort of thing tended to make a mute man verbose.

  “I mean it to be.” He looked into her eyes earnestly. “I need help, Kitt-with-two-t’s, and I’ll be everlastingly grateful if I receive it. I mean to make my fortune here, as well as the fortunes of those depending on me. I can’t let a little thing like deportation get in the way.” He took a deep breath. “So, what do you say? Will you marry me?”

  The irony of it struck her full force. “You know, I’ve waited all my life to hear those words.” She laughed softly. That would teach her to be a dreamer. “I never expected it to sound like a business merger.”

  He felt his sympathies aroused. A woman like Kitt deserved better, she deserved to be proposed to by a man who meant to give her a real home and a family, not just shelter.

  “I can make it sound more romantic if you like, Kitt, but you’ll know it’ll be a lie.”

  She had to stop being such a dreamer
. The real world was a demanding place. Hadn’t she learned that yet?

  “Yes, I know.” She told herself to look at the bright side and make the best of things. “And I appreciate your being so honest with me, especially after what I’ve just gone through with Jeffrey.” Kitt made up her mind. She was going to go along with this, she thought. But she needed more information. “If I say yes, how long does this ‘arrangement’ have to go on?”

  “A little more than a year.” The rules demanded a year. He figured a little longer than that would be playing it safe. “After that, you’re free to divorce me any time you want.”

  “A little more than a year,” she repeated.

  It sounded like a long time to some, but she had no plans for the next year or so on the romantic front. No plans for the rest of her life, really, other than raising Shawna and being the best mother possible. She’d learned her lesson when it came to men. It could be summed up in two words: stay clear.

  A little more than a year. That provided a great deal of leeway. Marrying O’Rourke would free her up not to jump at the first job she found. It would allow her the luxury of looking for something that had a good future with it. And the luxury to enjoy her baby for a few weeks without feeling guilty about it—or feeling guilty because she’d had to rush back to work in order to put food on the table and diapers on Shawna’s little bottom.

  In reality, this was a godsend, she reasoned. They would each get what they wanted. She’d get her breathing space and he would get the time he said he needed to finish whatever it was he needed to finish. She was going to have to ask him to go into greater detail about that. But not right now.

  “All right, Shawn Michael O’Rourke, I accept.” She put out her hand to seal the bargain. “I’ll be your wife. In name only.”

  His fingers closed around hers. “Absolutely,” he said, raising his other hand in a solemn promise. “I’ll only touch you if someone’s looking.”

  Her eyes narrowed as she drew her hand away. “Define touch.”

  Rather than waste a lot of words, he showed her instead.