Conveniently Married

By Jo Anne Barnes

Caroline needs a husband before her upcoming birthday if she's going to receive the trust fund her wealthy uncle left her in his will. But when a mutual friend introduces her to Joe, she has serious doubts about marrying a man who's dressed like a hippy.  Joe needs a place to live temporarily, but can he live under the same roof with such a controlling woman? They marry for convenience, but will they fall in love?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jo Anne Barnes
• Release date: Dec 24, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215472682

Jo Anne Barnes

/Users/joannebarnes/Desktop/JO ANNE BARNES grew up in a small parish in northeastern Louisiana 2.docx

Book preview

Chapter One

Bright sunlight flooded the shopping mall's skylights, and bounced off his elongated features, casting a shadow on his square unshaven jaw. Wearing a psychedelic, tie-dyed tee shirt that whirled with bright turquoises and purples, fluorescent shorts that dipped below his knees and a sun-streaked ponytail that bounced when he moved, he looked like her worse nightmare instead of the man of her dreams. He looked like a rainbow.

She'd always remember this moment, remember the odd assortment of people milling around peeking in store windows, the sound of the elevator bell, the scent of fresh bread drifting from the French cafe, and neon garments hanging from suspended rods, adorning his booth. She'd think of how close she'd come to letting Janet Raynes talk her into making the biggest mistake of her life and remember everything.

He doesn't always dress like that, Janet said. It's good for business to model the shirts he's selling. At least give him a chance.

I don't know, Janet. I don't feel right about this at all. What will I say to him?

I've told him about you. Just interview him like you did the others.

The others. The men who had answered Caroline's advertisement in The Dallas Morning News looked more like derelicts than this man if that was possible. I tried to tell you no good would come of the newspaper ad.

Well, let's face it. You're running out of time.

Janet shoved her hands in the deep pockets of her skirt. Caroline, I always liked your uncle, but he was not your run-of-the-mill citizen. He ran around wearing those silly hats of his, doing magic tricks, and pushing us in grocery carts when he made his rounds at the hospital. Do you think this was his idea of a joke?

I haven't tried to second-guess him. It was his money. He had a right to do what he wanted to with it.

Caroline considered the rainbow man one last time. Standing beside a woman wearing suede-fringed boots, he held up purple trousers with a bursting doughnut design for a teenage boy to inspect. If Caroline wasn't mistaken, the man's nose leaned to one side. It was barely noticeable, but it leaned all the same.

She ached to go home, but the unpleasant reality her uncle left her with glued her to the tile floor. She had two months left before her twenty-sixth birthday, only two months to find a husband or forfeit the trust her uncle had set up for her in his will. And she desperately needed that money.

Janet was right. Uncle Henry's motive behind all this was hard to understand. Here they'd had this wonderful relationship, and he'd gone and tarnished the memory of it. If he were standing before her right now, she'd tell him that. She'd point out that he'd never tried to control her while he was alive. Why would he want to after his death?

Are you sure I can trust this man? Caroline asked.

I told you I've known Joe Vandagriff for five years. I know you're not going to believe this, but I respect him. He's an artist who wants time to paint.

Her ears perked. An artist? You told me he needs someone to support him. I assumed he was handicapped or something.

In a sense all artists are handicapped. Janet shoved her dark hair behind her ear. Michelangelo, Van Gogh . . .they all had sponsors. Do you think we'd have the Sistine Chapel if the Pope hadn't financially supported Michelangelo the years he worked on it?

That's different. Michelangelo was an established artist.

Van Gogh wasn't. How would he have painted if it weren't for his brother Theo? He would have starved.

Vincent Van Gogh was mad. He cut off his ear! Janet, I appreciate everything you've done for me, your advice, the fact—

Too late now. He sees us.

The man waved, a little ta-da fluttering of his fingers meant to put her mind at ease. He left the woman wearing the fringed-suede boots in charge of business and sauntered toward them.

I'll see you later, Janet said, lowering her voice as she turned to leave. I have to rescue the babysitter.

Caroline reached for Janet's hand but grabbed air instead. Her friend smiled and slipped into the midst of a group of people, leaving Caroline in a bind.

It would be downright rude to take off now. Not only that, Caroline was convinced Janet had made the proposition sound more certain than it actually was when she'd mentioned it to him, otherwise she wouldn't have pushed so hard. Never mind, Caroline told herself as she watched him loping down the corridor toward her. Just tell him you've changed your mind. As much as she hated to admit it, something about that lackadaisical gait of his was appealing. And blatantly sexy. For such a tall man, he seemed so easygoing and comfortable with himself. She'd always liked that in men. Being around them made her lighten up, and take herself less seriously.

His head held high with pride, hands slung low on slim hips, he stopped not far from Caroline and watched the door until Janet passed through it into the sunlight. It dawned on Caroline that Janet had left him in an awkward position too. He probably felt as embarrassed as she did about all this.

Do you know where she's going? he called out in a rich, warm voice that took her by surprise.

She had to get back to her daughter. If you want to wait until later on to talk when she's around, it's fine with me. Actually, I'm not sure I want to ....

Shaking his head in amazement, he crossed the space between them and the jolt of discovery hit her full force.

This man was handsome, devilishly so. He looked in his early thirties, but he seemed younger because of the pleasant way the lines in his face meshed. She couldn't imagine him ever growing old, too much eagerness radiated from him.

He gave a low chuckle as if to make fun of the situation, himself caught up in it. This is far out. Don't you think so? Janet asks me to meet you here then disappears the minute she sees me coming.

His gaze leisurely swept over her slender silhouette, the cotton dress with its wide collar that framed her oval face, the cream hose that made her legs look shapely in spite of their thinness, and her shoes with sensible heels. She sensed his approval even before he gave a slight, flattering nod.

You know, you're not at all what I pictured from talking to her. I’m not disappointed, he hastily added. I've always liked redheads. You're just more refined than I thought you would be, judging from Janet's description.

She laughed a little tense, croaking sound. I'll have to remember to thank Janet.

She didn't mean anything by it, just mentioned that you like to dig around in the soil. Stuff like that.

Was that the best description of her Janet could manage? I imagine she was referring to my flowerbeds. Sure, I like working with plants. Doesn't everyone?

Not really, he said, smiling. It's not part of the deal, is it?

She felt her face grow warm, but she smiled with him.

It could be the gentle way he spoke that disconcerted her or the hint of humor that lingered in his eyes long after his smile had faded. Whatever it was, the results were puzzling. She'd made up her mind to dislike him, to send him packing, but she was finding him easy to like and difficult to dismiss so quickly.

Let's sit for a minute, he said, his friendly voice almost serenading her. We need to talk about all this.

They moved to park benches lined against a wall. Caroline sat at the end of one, and Joe settled beside her with his arm stretched comfortably behind her head. Every time she moved she sensed her hair brushing his skin and an unsettling tingle scooted up her spine.

She forced herself to stop staring at his beard, which was slightly darker than the hair on his head and look away from him. She had to level with him, spell out her reservations and let the man get back to work. She owed him an apology for agreeing to meet with him, wasting so much of his time when she'd been doubtful all along. She hoped she wouldn't hurt his feelings. Look, why don't we get right down to things? I only have a few minutes.

That's fine with me. When do you want to get married?

Color rose to her cheeks, and she inched farther away from him. Even as she hugged the end of the bench, she couldn't escape noticing that while he was dressed in wild colors shouting for attention, his eyes stood out as the bluest blue she'd ever seen. She was entranced by them. I might as well be upfront with you. I'm not convinced I want to go through with this. She quickly added, Nothing personal, understand.

He snorted, a sound halfway between a chuckle and a grunt. Man, am I relieved. To tell the honest-to-goodness truth, I don't know if I want to either. I'm not sure it's worth the hassle. He tugged on his earlobe and stroked his beard. Except there's one little problem.

Caroline tilted her face to his.

I've got to decide one way or other before the day ends. The lease on my apartment expired this morning. He smiled somewhat crookedly at Caroline. That doesn't give us much time, does it?

A gurgle of nervous laughter spurted from her mouth. We could draw straws.

When the surprised look passed from his face, he grinned.

Oh, goodness, she said, trying to choke back the fit of giggles that suddenly overcame her. Here she'd worried about hurting his feelings, and he was just as leery as she was. I'm getting silly. I haven't done this since I was a teenager.

Actually, it's a very sensible idea. I'm sorry I didn't think of it first. Do you have a slip of paper in your purse, something we could use for straws?

She pretended seriousness and swallowed the laughter racing up her throat. No, no. It was dumb of me. I'll admit it. I don't know whatever possessed me to suggest such a thing. I guess we'd better concentrate on terms, just in case we decide to do it. You'll have your own bedroom, of course. You're welcome to use the kitchen and living room. You cook and I'll—

Didn't Janet tell you?

Tell me what?

He ran a large hand through dark blond hair cut short at his temples. I'm agreeing to this marriage because I need to devote more time to my art. I won't be able to do anything that keeps me away from painting. Do you mind taking care of the cooking?

She pulled herself taller, giving him a look that said she was no pushover. I suppose we can share cooking and shopping duties. But I'm not cleaning up after you, is that clear? You'll have to take care of any messes you make.

I can handle that for a short time. We're getting a divorce in two months, right?

Well, actually it might take a little longer. If we go through with this, I’ll give you a week's notice before you have to move out.

He studied her for a moment. How much did your uncle leave you anyway?

Janet had no business telling you about that! Besides, I don't know. Most of the trust is tied up in stock. Why do you ask?

I'm sure you realize I could get any number of ... of friends to put up with me for a few months. They wouldn't charge anything, of course.

Women friends?

A couple of months won't improve my situation. Janet thought you'd be willing to offer a percentage of your inheritance in exchange for my cooperation, something I can live on for a while after my obligations have been met.

Caroline cleared her throat. Janet might have dreamed this up in the first place, but she doesn't set the terms.

No, no, of course not, he agreed wholeheartedly. You go ahead and set them. He gave her a trusting, naive look in which there was not the slightest hint Caroline might disappoint him. I'll decide if I can live with them.

She hadn't considered sharing her money. But in a way, he would earn it. Her uncle's trustee had told her the assets in her trust would generate a considerable sum when liquidated. Hopefully, that meant enough to pay this man off and still have plenty left over.

"All right. If we do it, five percent. Caroline accented the if" so there would be no misunderstanding.

Twenty. It's a gamble, not knowing how much you'll inherit.

Offended, she countered, Ten, take it or leave it.

He removed his arm from the back of the bench. His movement gave her a clear view of his ear. A bit of gold caught the sunlight and glittered. Her face flew open. Oh, my God! He wore an earring.

I'll take your offer. But there's one other little detail we should discuss.

What now? she asked rather impatiently.

I sold a profitable business over a year ago so I'd have money to live on. When that was gone, I sold my car. I need transportation if I'm going to have to earn my own spending money, unless, of course, you'd like to provide that too.

No way!

I'll need a car.

His chin jutted in a stubborn manner. He blinked his lashes, and she realized how long they were. As irksome as he could be, he wasn't as bad looking as she'd initially thought—lean and well-muscled with those damn eyes. All she'd noticed about him before was a blur of iridescent colors that blinded her.

Caroline thought of her uncle's 1936 Studebaker that coughed and smoked whenever she tried to start it and smiled to herself. We'll see about a car. I'm not promising anything, though. My uncle left a small sum of money to me outright, but I hate to part with that until I have to. I'll need some of it to pay taxes on the house he left me. Can't sell it. If I don't want it, it goes to charity, Joe.

He leaned toward her, his face much too near hers. She sloped backward, but she could still feel his warm breath on her forehead.

You called me by my name. Do you mind if I call you Caroline?

"I don't mind. As I